◆Asset◆

“Why have you brought me out here?” Tusmon stared at the newly constructed bridge that spanned over Drazah’s Fault.

“You instructed me to meet you at my residence,” Asset answered logically. “This is my home.”

“You live under a bridge?” the detective raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, this is my station,” the genderless humanoid nodded. “I was posted here as an assignment from Drim Drazah. Now please, let me invite you inside.”

And just exactly where was the inside that Asset was talking about? Admittedly, the fault had changed immensely. Tusmon had come out and performed an inspection of the place after the competition between Above and the Fiends For Hire to kill a bunch of monsters, wanting to ensure there was no lasting devastation. But all he’d found was a desolate hole in the ground.

Now, however, the chasm was abloom with fauna, practically a big bowl of salad with how much greenery was stuffed inside. There were different flowers and bushes, countless trees to make one of the most stunning and unique groves the man had ever come across in his lifetime. And at the center, there was one towering tree above all the rest. Its tallest branches went right under the new bridge, with vines protruding up to the metal, and flowers blooming along the beams.

Clearly a Fiend had a hand in its creation, either Drim or possibly Asset themself. Tusmon had heard rumors about the person, what had happened to them, but never could substantiate any of the claims. So that was part of what he was there to find out. To start with, the person that now stood before him looked rather different than the man he remembered at the Fiends For Hire trials. Back then, he stuck out immensely, appearing weirdly plain compared to anyone else. But now they looked like any other Fiend, and actually had life in their eyes.

None of that, though, had a hand in where they were supposed to go. Who had created the plants didn’t presently matter since they were certainly blocking the way. There was no definitive trail leading anywhere. The wilds were completely untamed, not a trace of landscaping in sight. Did Asset expect him to crawl through the tall grass, into the dark woods he couldn’t even see into? Well, the detective would if needed, but he was more worried about whatever insects and creatures were lurking in that floral haven.

But Asset didn’t share any concern and stepped forward, placing their hands right at the rim of the fault. A line of plants in front of them began to glow. Some shrunk while others bent out of the way, forming a tunnel into the chasm.

Asset led the way through the twisted branches. Fungus lit up as they approached, illuminating the path down the slope into what started to feel like an enchanted valley. And then the tunnel opened up into a small dome underneath the roots of the giant tree, revealing the little hideaway that Asset called home.

Fireflies danced in the clearing, even though it was bright as day outside the grove. But inside, the covering would have made it perpetually night if not for all the bioluminescent flora and fungi. Asset, however, didn’t live openly under the roots. There was a small knoll underneath, covered in mossy ground. It had been hollowed out with a few wooden windows and an ornate door.

Without a doubt, it was the most magical place Tusmon had witnessed. He was hard-pressed to believe that such a place could exist on Rathe. And if he’d been told that the tunnel he’d just walked through was a gateway to another world, he absolutely would have believed it.

One more strange oddity, though, was that the door into the knoll didn’t actually have a handle that the detective could identify. Instead, Asset placed their hand against the door, and the wood twisted away, allowing entry. And while the person cast what was essentially magic, the detective noticed something he thought he’d caught before, but was now certain. While adjusting the plants, Asset’s red eyes were swirled over with green light, the same as Drim’s.

But Tusmon let it go for now and stepped into the small home. And the being—whom the detective was more and more starting to see as a mythical creature rather than a person—followed and closed the door behind them.

Like the outside, the interior was just as charming and cozy. The walls were made of twisted beams and ivy, and all the furniture had clearly been hand-carved from natural wood. There were also homemade cushions and drapery that had been weaved by Asset themself. And what was really shocking, was there wasn’t a single piece of technology in sight.

Asset of course had a phone, but that was the bare minimum to exist in modern society if they wanted to stay employed. But there was no TV, no computer, no basic appliances. There were books, though. It seemed that was how Asset kept themself entertained. Strangely, they all looked rather ancient. Just glancing at the spines, Tusmon couldn’t read any of their titles.

Hadn’t Chiulu mentioned finding writings of a similar nature? And she had also mentioned finding bizarre sconces, the very same that were now lighting up Assets little home. In fact, everything about this house seemed to be from a forgotten era long, long ago.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Asset cut into Tusmon’s nosy gawking.

“Uhh, sure,” the detective answered while sitting down in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs.

But before providing refreshments, the host briefly wandered into the back room. There were actually only two rooms: the living area which sort of had a kitchen included and the bedroom which Tusmon could only see part of through the doorway. And there was also a rather small bathroom that was more like a closet. It was definitely meant as a space for one, but could probably fit two if they were very intimate. Though The Investigator doubted Asset as the type to be bringing people back to their home, enchanting as it may be.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The homeowner returned with a tiny monster in their hands. “This is Snurtley, my pet Snurtle.” They set the creature down gently on the table in front of the detective and then grabbed a few vegetables, placing them in front of the monster’s mouth who began happily munching. “She likes to be scratched on her shell if you feel inclined.”

And honestly Tusmon couldn’t help himself, delicately brushing his finger against the monster’s shell as Asset turned around towards the kitchen. Snurtley’s glee grew even more as she brushed back into the detective’s finger, wanting more vigorous pets.

“Let’s see. People these days like drinks made from leaves and beans, right?” the being attempted to confirm as they dug through their supplies, seeing what they had. “I could make some fresh, I suppose, but that might take me a while. Could I interest you in some nectar?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tusmon wasn’t really sure what he was in for, but drinks and pleasantries wasn’t really why he was there. Even if his expectations had been blown away and was still trying to process them, he still had a job to do. But he had to take a pause when he actually took a sip. His eyes widened, and his mouth twitched in surprise.

It was nothing bad, rather the opposite—his taste buds activated with joy. The drink was the sweetest, most fragrant and delicious thing he had ever tasted, to the point that his tongue was aching for more. Just add caffeine and it’d shove out coffee and anything else as the most addictive drink in the world overnight. It took all he had to maintain his professionalism and not beg for another cup.

So once he managed to calm himself, Tusmon set the drinkware down and asked, “Do you know why I’m here?”

“I was told you were coming to ask me some questions,” the person answered as they helped themselves to their own cup.

“Yes, it shouldn’t take long,” The Detective assured them. “We are making a registration of all Fiends and Lessers in the world. Which… I’m not sure that you qualify as anymore. But you were certainly labeled as a Lesser at one point in time, so we’ll have you registered as such for simplicity's sake.”

“And we are currently going through the roster of the Fiends For Hire. While I understand you are not officially a member of that group, you are listed as an employee under Drim Drazah, and that was reason enough to include you with this batch. So let’s get started. What is your full legal name?”

“I don’t have one,” the person stated firmly. “I, or we, actually had several names, countless names, but now I have none. So you can just call me Asset.”

“Alright, Asset,” Tusmon jotted that down. “Due to your unique situation, I am going to ask you a couple questions that aren’t normally included in our registration process. From my perspective, you don’t seem quite human—not in the same way that Lessers and Fiends aren’t considered human. What would you say that you are?”

“I am a collection of souls,” Asset answered just as bluntly. “We are the dead from a world long past, our lives lost in a great calamity and our souls were left wandering. Then one day we were summoned into your world by a Fiend called Sim Twelling who bound our souls to his constructs.”

“When Sim Twelling died, our souls were merged into one body: Asset. But we were still bound to our summoner’s will. Then we were saved by Drim Drazah. He moved our collective consciousness into a new body forged from his plants and life energy, one that granted us back our free will. We, no, I am still bound to my new master in a way, and he can summon me at any time. But he does not demand. He asks.”

“That’s… thank you for answering honestly,” Tusmon didn’t know how to respond, but was certain he was being told the truth, partially because he’d used his power of interrogation to assure that outcome. “For both of our sakes, we will keep that out of the public registration. Mostly because I don’t want to have to explain it.”

“And now for the second offbeat question. Normally we wouldn’t ask about a Lesser’s unique powers, but you clearly possess some. Could you describe them in your own words?”

“Similarly to my creator, I can control plants,” Asset sounded as unenthused as ever. “But only plants that he himself creates. When Drim Drazah asked me to stay here, he planted a few seeds and saplings, but I was the one who made them bloom. I can manipulate them as if they are part of myself, even in ways that he can not.”

“This includes my body as well,” the plant-being held up their arm. Their fingers unraveled into free-flowing vines and then formed up again. They then changed their head into that of a budding flower, which returned to a face entirely different than the one they had before.

“I see,” Tusmon jotted it all down, trying not to be disturbed by the strangeness he’d just witnessed. The interview then continued normally from there, though most answers to Asset’s questions were either ‘I don’t know’ or just a plain ‘no’. Only when asked about their job was there another interesting answer.

“Drim Drazah summons me on occasion for work. I would call them fairly standard jobs for what you have seen from the Fiends For Hire, but jobs that would otherwise go incomplete. But my current long-standing assignment is to live here and protect this bridge.”

“For reasons I do not understand, humans kept attempting many different plans to prevent this bridge’s construction. Something about contracts and bids. Today’s humans are very strange. But I did not allow any of their attempts to succeed.”

“Since the bridge’s completion, the number of attempts to cause its destruction have vastly decreased, but it still happens on occasion, so I must stay and protect it. There has been an increase in attempts at vandalism, however mostly by younger humans. But I have made sure the bridge remains untarnished.”

“Has anyone ever tried to attack or confront you directly regarding it?” Tusmon expressed his concern.

“No,” Asset flatly rejected the idea. “Every so often, a human from one of the nearby towns will come to visit me. They bring me food and supplies. And they call me their Guardian Troll. I do not know what the word ‘troll’ means, but I assume it to be a term of endearment.”

“Ah…” Tusmon was starting to see the clearer picture. “It seems they have mistaken you for some sort of divine spirit of protection. Those are still a somewhat common belief in a few religious sects. But I guess that isn’t too far from the actual truth, so I don’t see a reason to correct them.”

And after that, the interview ended without anything further of note. “Thank you for your cooperation, Asset,” Tusmon stood up to leave. But before he left, there was one request on his mind. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I have a bottle or a jar of that nectar to take with me.”

“Certainly,” Asset smiled, happy that someone appreciated it. “You can have as much as you like.”