Chapter 164: Big Plans, Small Brain

For better or for worse.

Nara had always told herself that her lukewarm emotions, after they’ve run their course of their original boil, had always been for better or for worse. While she realized now that she’d like Encio as something for than just a friend, it was just that to her—a thought.

There was no aching pain of the thought, no emotional self-torture, no crying in the dark with knees huddled to her chest at the thought of a romance unfulfilled. The peak of her affection was more mittelgebirge than Mount Everest. A high hill, really. She had always thought, in her mantra of ‘For better or for worse’ that this was one of those ‘worse’ aspects of her mind, once she couldn’t change nor fight, for that was the way she had been born. She didn’t know if this counted as neurodivergence, maybe she was mildly sociopathic, but it had never affected her life enough to get tested for something, and she settled for accepting what she figured that she was one of the many different types of minds, personalities, and quirks, a human could be born with.

She had often wondered what it’d be like to be her sister, to be caught in the sort of romantic love that made you cry wetly, calling your siblings or friends for advice at 2 am; the type that propelled you into becoming a better person, such as learning new recipes to paint a delighted smile on your partner’s face. The way to a love’s heart was through their stomach, after all. Although, for Nara, that meant her potential partners falling in love with Chrome. (Did that count, if he was a part of her abilities? Like uh, having a nice house or a car?)

So, she held that warm, comforting thought, placing it on a soft cushioned pedestal within her mind, like jewelry to be admired, not worn. It was one she wouldn’t act on, and accepted that she appreciated Encio in ways beyond friendship.

*****

Nara never had the experience of waking up in bed with a beauty, although that was the dumbfounded thought she had upon seeing Encio’s sleeping face. His beautiful bronze skin against the morning sun, his luscious dark waves that framed his face, and the way his long eyelashes covered his emerald eyes like curtains of night protecting the heart of a forest.

Why does it feel like he’s the beauty and I’m the beast? She thought wryly. He’d be great as the star of a Disney Prince movie, then was surprised that their diversity inclusive screenwriters hadn’t made a Disney Prince movie yet…Well, damn, she couldn’t think of any Disney movie that had such a role reversal. How uncreative. Except, hm, ironically, Beauty and the Beast. Did the Beast count as a Damsel in Distress? Mutual damsels in mutual distress and mutual rescuing heroes?

She slipped off of the bed, the cloud flooring comfortable against her feet. It didn’t have the too cold sensation of hard flooring in morning, instead pleasant in both temperature and texture. Thanatos looked up, and stretched his body with a large, snapping yawn. She still hadn’t figured out if he actually sleeps or not. Or if he does just for fun.

She crouched next to him, a little disbelieving of the events of the night previous.

“I’ve never been in love before Thanatos,” she said with a conspiratorial, telepathic whisper. “Do you know what that’s like?”

He muttered a quiet bark. Also telepathic.

“Silly question, I know. What does a wolf know about love?”

Thanatos knew a lot about love. His one true love was food, after all.

She gave him a thorough petting, stroking his face, back, and stomach. The best way to start any day was to use hands the way God intended—to boop the noses of all animals. Now that she had magic power, she could get away with booping the dangerous ones. She made an internal bucket list of all the animals she wanted to scritch: an alligator (swamp puppy), a seal (water puppy), a bat (sky puppy), a lion (big cat puppy?), a cheetah (savannah greyhound—still a puppy), a shark (ocean puppy)….

“If you keep rubbing your familiar like that,” a teasing voice rose from above her, still on the bed, “I’m going to get jealous.”

“Orrrrrrrr,” Nara offered, “You can pet him together with me. If Thanatos is okay with it.”

He barked.

“He is.”

She wondered why her familiars bodied such extremes, with Thanatos having never turned down a pet, and Chrome rejecting almost all. One a glutton, and the other a chef (and a glutton). Chrome would say ‘Like summoner, like familiar.’

Encio shook his head lightly and slipped off the bed as well, couching next to Nara to join in her daily routine of petting the fluffies.

They enjoyed that quiet moment, fingers carding through fur, sunlight streaming through windows, and feet against soft floor.

She rose, slapping Encio on the back.

“Alright. Up and at ‘em.”

They walked downstairs to John and Eufemia already up at the breakfast table while Chrome bustled about the kitchen. Sage was his semi-corporeal cooking partner, expertly offering high-quality assistance to the head chef. She cut vegetables to Chrome’s exacting specifications, whipped up batters, and stirred sauces as Chrome manned the stoves and seasoned the dishes.

“Someone woke up chipper,” John noted, cradling a mug of the strongest variety of tea he could find, as dark and dismal as London’s fog. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I was sent an angel in the middle of the night, and let’s just say I had a divine revelation.”

“By the gods,” Eufemia exclaimed, “Did you finally eat him?”

“No! And he’s standing right next to be,” Nara said, gesturing to Encio with exasperation as he flashed a grin.

“I mean sexually,” she clarified unnecessarily. “I’m never quite sure you catch my meaning.”

“No! I didn’t eat him,” Nara repeated, glaring at Eufemia. “I knew what you meant.”

Eufemia flashed a sly grin, confirming that she had said so just to further embarrass Nara.

Nara peered into the kitchen, wondering if any help was needed, but was only met with a glare that said ‘do not inexpertly interfere’. Sometimes, Chrome still let her help. Sometimes. But she’d been abandoned for the far superior assistance of Sage. “Y’all really jump on each other the day of? That’s like, the biggest no-no of first dates in my world.”

Eufemia snorted, “Your world sounds like prudes. How many times do you think Aliyah and Wisteria met before they were tussling off their trousers? That woman doesn’t have a book on sex magic just to leave it unused. And you two have known each other for months.”

“Which woman?”

Eufemia’s smile indicated the answer was the famous inclusive yes.

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They settled at the table while Sen entered from out back. He had woken up the earliest, practicing or exercising in the courtyard. He had quickly cleaned up in the outdoor shower, sparing them all the smell of his sweat against breakfast. Lawrence was also characteristically strict; as a priest of Knowledge, he operated on a schedule you’d expect of a formal semi-lived-in organization. Aliyah was the last to wake, stumbling downstairs still mildly disheveled. Sen may have used adolescent brattiness years back to force her into developing a habit of orderliness for her study, but that didn’t apply to her room or her sleeping schedule (at least on days where it didn’t matter).

“Are you alright to depart for the mausoleum today?” Sen asked, as he started to fill his plate from the dishes Sage and Chrome had already carried out. “We can reschedule. A day or a week of delay makes no difference. This won’t be an expedient search.”

“Yeah, I’m fine now,” Nara said. “It’s nothing a day or week is going to immediately solve either.”

She resolved herself to go apologize to Rhys later.

There was a knock at the door, and Roscoe was guided in by Sage.

“Good morning to my fellow adventurers!” He greeted the team energetically, with far too much energy for anyone to possess before breakfast. Morning folk, in Nara’s opinion, should be categorized as an entirely different race, with a racial reading ‘Do not suffer the effects of sleep deprivation. The mind requires no time to wake.’ Abominable. “Shall we get down to business?” he inquired. “Ooh?” He caught a glimpse of the full spread at the table, looking wanting and impish. “Any for me?”

Sen gestured, and Nara had a chair pulled up from nebula matter for him to sit in. They all shuffled a bit, displacing their table mats to make room.

The costs of lodging, food, and transportation was provided as part of his contract. He didn’t need costs for lodging—he lived in Kallid, but transportation would have been included if they needed it to travel to the mausoleum. They’d need it for the first trip there, but any subsequent trips would be free thanks to their portals. The free lodging, food, and transportation wasn’t a proposition to cut Roscoe’s costs, but rather a necessity—within the mausoleum, he couldn’t exactly spend his time away in their lodgings. It was unsafe.

The team was roughly at Bronze 2 with Sen and Encio, the two humans, thanks to the slightly faster growth provided by Human Ambition, edged closer to Bronze 3.

Sen’s teleportation could take targets with him through a portal although he could not conjure a portal. Nara could use a portal, but didn’t have to use up its capacity herself, but neither did she count towards her own capacity anyway, as long as she used the Astral Domain as her intermediary. Eufemia could transport another two, as could Aliyah.

Aliyah sighed after her mental calculations.

“Including Rosco, Lawrence, and a mausoleum researcher, we’re just one away from the full party in 10 minutes.”

“The moment any of us achieves Bronze 3 in our portal or teleportation ability,” Encio three, “We can swing the pull party in 10 minutes.”

“Wouldn’t you still be lacking one spot?” Roscoe asked. He’d done the math himself—it wasn’t hard, at bronze rank, even with only minor education. Roscoe however, knew a great deal thanks to his profession, and was well-read, significantly better than the average of Kallid.

“I don’t count towards my own capacity,” Nara explained, “Special ability.” Which was more or less the truth that it didn’t feel like lying to Nara.

“Ah, well, there’s no rush. 10 minutes ain’t all that,” said Rosco. “We just pick up the researchers last after we’re all through.”

“You’ve organized that already?” Sen was impressed with his expediency and ability to predict the needs of the team. He was a professional, after all.

Roscoe thumped his chest with reassurance. “Miss Ceri Bethel, iron ranker—nothing we can do about that. They save the bronze rank researchers for the irons, for safety reasons. She’ll know a fair bit about the mausoleum. You can think of her as a second guide—won’t match up to me, but you may like your second opinion. Just to see how much better mine is.

“Now that that’s out of the way—” Roscoe poised his fork into the air, eyes glittering at the spread of food before him. “I’m diggin’ in. Hope you made enough for a leonid!”

Chrome snorted, “You’re not impressive, leonid, I’ve seen worlds devoured.”

Aliyah gave him a look that spoke of hunger for more knowledge, rather than food.

“Haha! Your familiar is a diamond class jokester!” Roscoe exclaimed. His plate was already topped high with freshly cooked foods, with a higher than average selection of meats. A hearty cream soup was ladled into a bowl for him, one categorically larger than the rest of the teams, and set down by his plate of other foods.

*****

Nara stood outside of the nebula house. Sage could access her inventory, and she removed the flask, holding it while the house shed its solid form and coalesced into a stream of multicolored light and dust.

She sensed two familiar auras. One bristled with indignity—Theodore, while the other watched from afar, likely Egil. She couldn’t sense Jago—he was far too strong for her.

“You said it wasn’t a cloud flask,” he said, holding back a growl.

“It’s not,” Nara said simply, not caring to look at him. She didn’t owe him the truth, nor had she lied. “Does that look like clouds to you?”

It didn’t, but Theodore couldn’t shake the bitterness and indignity.

“What is it then?”

She looked at him, tilting her head. “Are we friends, Theodore?”

A rush of indignity flared through Theodore. Another adventurer trying to become his ‘friend’, so that they could snag a second growth item before they inevitably left him behind in Kallid.

“What. So you are trying to be my friend!” he accused. “I’m not going to craft a growth item for you.”

“That not’s what I asked. I asked if I was your friend.”

“N-O,” he said, overemphasizing the single syllable.

She shrugged, her hands in the pocket of her long coat. It was something Pietro had made for her, lined with something like warm fleece, while the outside was snow, water, and wind repellant. He encouraged her to buy an actual cloak in Kallid, from their local tailors. They’d do better for winter wear than he could, when it was needed.

“Then I don’t really owe you any explanation, do I?” she said, head cocked at just the right angle to exude a lofty, imperious attitude. She’d learnt that head angle from the best. “We’re not friends, and you’ve just accused me of trying to become your friend for a growth item. Besides, if I had any more growth items, I could plant a garden of them.”

One for each season.

He seemed equal parts disbelieving and unsure that she was the one to deny his friendship, and he had a sense that he’d already lost control of the conversation. “Growth items don’t grow on trees.” Just buried in a diamond ranker’s mausoleum. However, his crafter’s curiosity had been piqued—did she have more? He wanted to see them, and felt his window of opportunity was closing. “Claim all you want. I doubt you have any proof,” he goaded. He could only push on with antagonism (he didn’t know how to be friendly). The friend ship had sailed.

Nara debated whether or not to show him. It would infuriate him more if she told him the truth, and perhaps may lead to a little schadenfreude down the line for his rude behavior now. She wasn’t going to ‘fix’ him or befriend him; she didn’t care to. But she might be willing to infuriate him, and see how that panned out for him. At the very least, it would break the status quo. She was someone who wanted nothing from him, not only that, someone that he wanted something from—information.

She imagined what Encio would do—a little effort here may go down the line for Jago’s and Egil’s gratitude. The retreaters were powerful, but she didn’t want to ask for favors from them and ruin their relationship—it was a strange equality they had with her, and one she didn’t want to ruin by asking for the one thing she never should ask for from them. Jago, however, she would have no compunctions about doing so.

However, she wasn’t that type of person. Theodore had pissed her off, and petty as she was, wanted to piss him off. Raja had been a brat, a teenager—he got a pass from her. This man, a grown ass man, Theodore Dahl, if he would dish it, he could take it.

“I have three,” she said nonchalantly. She gestured to each as she briefly introduced them, “The flask, the lute, and the earring.”

“Bolo shit,” he spat out, disbelieving. “You speak Leuan’s lies.” Let me see them, echoed unspoken.

Leuan? Another knight of the Einvaldi, but one she hadn’t heard of yet.

“You don’t have to believe me, blacksmith. But you are the one who wanted to know. If you aren’t going to believe me, why bother?”

He clenched his jaw, feeling his leonid fangs grind against each other in frustration. Her face was impassive, a sneering poker-face that revealed not if what she was saying was truth or fiction. It was fiction, he insisted to himself, but why did he think it was truth?

(He could not insist that she had none, after all, since he had already seen the first one. It irritated him that her claims had any credibility, fueling a greater drive to prove her wrong.)

The nebula material was completely bottled, and Sage stored it safely away into Nara’s Astral Domain. She gave him a passing, indifferent glance, and left to catch up with the others, a shimmering, semi-transparent grey robe figure trailing behind her.

Egil peeked from the window, his silver rank senses passing over the brief discourse in the courtyard. Nara had noticed him, but Egil was aware he was, while a core user, was not a master at aura manipulation.

“Did you ask them to do that?”

“No,” Jago said, “I decided against it. Mona seems to have mentioned something.”

“Hm. You should give your thanks,” Egil said thoughtfully. “She gave you plausible deniability.”

Jago rolled his eyes. “I don’t need plausible deniability.”

Egil tipped Jago’s head back, “Strong as you are, dear, lying is not your strength.”

Egil stroked Jago’s chin, as if he was thinking through his partner.

“If friendship doesn’t work, rivalry might.”

Jago laughed, one that would’ve boomed across into the courtyard if not for the noise suppression of the house.

“There isn’t rivalry to be had! The young lady would put our son into the ground. He’s puts the ‘fur’ in ‘furnace’ and nothing else.”

“Rivalry, Jago,” Egil said, his head on his husband’s shoulder, “Isn’t about who can win.”