“Do you enjoy being tied down, child? Bound by rules and conventions, expectations, intertwined alliances and enmities?”

“Not particularly.”

Grandmother shrugs lightly. “Nor do I.”

I’m sitting at the same… what did Orv call it? ‘Family restaurant’? With him, Izzy, Arty, and Lamashtu. I wanted it to be relatively casual, though you wouldn’t know it from how my father-in-law is practically tied into a knot.

“Then why would you ever consider joining the pantheons, least of all one of the large ones?” she asks.

“Wait, there’s more than two!?”

…

From the looks on everyone else’s faces, I’m getting the impression I’m the only one here who didn’t know that.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Nyx retorts while dipping a fried root vegetable in some kind of sauce.

“…Wait, since when were you here!?”

“If I have to listen to you list off everything on the table in your head, I’m damn well going to help myself, asshole,” she grumbles back through a mouthful of food.

Meanwhile Orv continues to look terrified, so I give him a pat on the shoulder.

And he flinches. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me either.

“Ah, don’t concern yourself, child of mine,” Grandmother says softly. “Between the two of us, this room is flooded with enough malevolence to threaten their lives. He is doing quite well simply by staying upright.”

Admittedly, the others are looking kind of pale as well.

Sodaca, meanwhile, obviously isn’t here.

Obviously.

Orv told her, and she apparently said she was way too busy doing the work of three people. Clearly not at all related to not wanting to share a table with three gods, two of which may be hostile to her existence. Nope, not at all.

I absentmindedly sigh.

In her defense I guess, I don’t know how Grandmother thinks of her. Most likely something beneath her notice, although she at least nodded to him when I introduced Orv, but I can tell that she’s really just humoring me.

Ancient monsters definitely don’t all turn out the same. Sure, Lamashtu seems to be a special case, but then there’s Arty… who seems more or less like any of the other gods, mostly just bored and seeking something to strike her fancy.

Like me, apparently.

The thought is apparently enough to draw a small giggle from her. Which is fine. I give her hand a squeeze under the table.

…

Huh.

I don’t know why I’d expected this to be a more lively gathering. So far the majority of the conversation has been between Grandmother and myself. Meanwhile Arty has been mostly focused on me for some reason, while Izzy is trying to comfort her father who is visibly out of his depth.

I just wanted to spend some time with both sides of my family, I guess. For some reason it felt like a thing I should want to do, though I don’t entirely understand why.

It’s quiet enough now other than the occasional sounds of eating and the clamor of the other patrons that we may as well not be talking at all.

But I do have questions… I didn’t realize I could more or less wish for Lamashtu to hear me and it’d just, happen? Maybe it’s related to the legacy Title… I don’t know, doesn’t really matter either. But since she’s here, I may as well ask.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

So I talked to some people, and apparently my Spellspeech isn’t Spellspeech, it’s something called the ‘words of creation’ or something.

She gives me a long sideways glance before subtly gesturing for me to continue.

I guess Spellspeech always shows up as a Skill, and this isn’t a Skill. The best I can tell, it’s either related to part of me being… what did you call it, ‘freespawn’? I call it an outsider, personally. Whatever. I don’t really care. Either that, or my weird Class. The god that offered it isn’t one anyone seems to have heard of, not even other gods, but I definitely had a vision when I accepted it.

Ah, now she’s locking eyes with me directly. WHO? she rasps in my mind.

Ananke.

Barely after the word has left my mind, I feel Lamashtu force it from… I don’t know where. But it feels like I hadn’t even… said it? Sent it?

DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME.

What? Why? It’s literally in my Status, I see it every time I look at it.

And she sighs.

THEN SHE IS ALREADY WATCHING, AND MOST LIKELY MOVING YOU AS WELL. WHAT IS IT THAT DRAWS THE ANCIENT HORRORS TO YOU?

I furrow my brow. Well, there have been times where it felt like words jumped into my head… like when I took Izahne from Themis, or when I made Omorth my retainer. There’s also the extra Domain that’s probably from my Class…

…

IS IT ‘CONTROL’, BY ANY CHANCE?

I blink, and then nod, drawing another sigh from her.

ENOUGH OF THIS DISCUSSION. IT HAS ALREADY DISPLEASED ME TOO MUCH.

What about a different topic then? I’m still not sure why the words of creation cause me pain now, sometimes even putting me in a coma, or god-equivalent of one anyway. Abaris had a theory that it could be because I’m using my Akashic Self as a conduit for it somehow. I’m pretty sure that for a while, it didn’t hurt at all, and when I made the moon curse to punish vampires, that didn’t hurt either.

Lamashtu offers her wine flute a thoughtful glance before answering. BE CAREFUL WHAT ANSWERS YOU SEEK, MY CHILD. THERE ARE THOSE WHO HUNT ENEMIES OF THE RECORD, AT LEAST AS THEY CHOOSE TO DEFINE THEM. YOU ARE A DANGER TO IT, WHICH CONFUSES ME ALL THE MORE… YOU WOULD BE FAR LESS DANGEROUS WITHOUT HER DOMAIN. TO YOUR THEORY, THE WORDS OF CREATION DO INDEED DRAW DIRECTLY FROM THE RECORD, FOR ALL CREATION IS MANAGED UNDER AND BY IT. THE WORDS ALLOW ONE TO MANIPULATE THE RECORD ITSELF. THERE WAS A TIME THAT ALL GODS KNEW THIS, BUT OVER A HUNDRED MILLENIA AND MORE THEY HAVE FORGOTTEN – SO MUCH THE BETTER. IT MAKES SENSE TO ME THAT DIRECT CHANGES WOULD REQUIRE CHANNELING CREATION, WHERE A SIMPLE RULES CHANGE WOULD NOT.

Huh.

…Rules change?

What do you mean, a rules change?

EXACTLY WHAT I SAID, MY CHILD, she chuckles in my mind. A RULE ESTABLISHING THAT MOONLIGHT BURNS VAMPIRES? YOU MADE NO DIRECT CHANGE TO CREATION, SIMPLY TO THE RULESET ENFORCED BY THE RECORD.

Then she suddenly leans toward me. AND THAT IS PRECISELY WHY YOU ARE SO, SO DANGEROUS, EVEN TO ME.

***

That ended a lot more stressfully than I’d intended, but thankfully Orv didn’t drop dead – not completely, anyway. A quick burst from Wave of Restoration had him back on his feet in no time, while Grandmother simply vanished a split second after she stood as if she’d stepped between the folds of reality itself, leaving me with far too much to think about.

But I guess I can think about it later.

One burst of blue flames later and we’re back in the Shadowed Plane… I’d asked Arty to bring us to the entry town, the now-rebuilt Darkwell although it stands completely different from how it once did. The hills are gone, and the layout is as uniform as the others, all built from the same template.

Why here? Well, because I felt like taking a look at the incoming visitors, of course. Why wouldn’t I? They’re here to see my plane, and by extension, me.

I take a moment to construct another ashen statue of the ephemeral Nyx facepalm, to which she offers a choice selection of obscenities.

And as I finish casting Permanence on it, it occurs to me that it’s another… what, use of the ability? One that doesn’t hurt. Maybe it’s another rules change or something.

Not that it particularly matters, I guess.

As I watch the mortals stream by in admittedly larger numbers than I’d expected, it also occurs to me that I can’t really tell them apart. Useful, harmful, dangerous, beneficial… they all look the same.

I wish I could detect threats.

…

Hmmmm…

Hey Nyx, when I first got my Class you said I stank of Erebus’ mana, right?

(Yeah,) she sighs through our link. (What are you getting at?)

Could you maybe… I don’t know, smell here for it again? You can do that, right?

(Oh go fuck yourself, I’m not your gods-damned dog,) she retorts before projecting the equivalent of slamming a door in my face.

And Arty chooses that moment to lean against me, lock eyes, and quietly say in a husky voice, “Arf.”

…

Yeah, I have absolutely no idea how to interpret that. Whatever.

Although…

“Wait, can you sniff out different kinds of mana? Like if I wanted to find people coming in who have the Domain of Darkness?”

My fox wife tilts her head for a moment before nodding.

“From how far away?”

She projects a mental image of a circle that’s…

Oh. That’s covering the whole plane, isn’t it?

Arty nods again.

It seems like such a strange ability, although…

Wait.

Is that…

I was going to ask her to sniff them out, but…

I’m definitely smelling…

Something.

Something intoxicating.

I’m barely paying attention as I find myself drifting after it, and towards it… until I bump into a humanlike of moderate height.

“Ahem, Excuse you. Don’t tell me, you’re another one of the guards here to hassle me, right? I keep telling you people, I’m not here to cause trouble. I was sent here for a reason, and you’re going to piss her off if you keep delaying me.”

I stare into their… his eyes intently for a moment before I ask, “Why do you smell of the blood Grandmother always has on hand?”