Well, that was a mistake.

Why? For one, I almost blew my cover. Not that it was particularly difficult to infiltrate the adventurer’s guild on my own plane, especially after popping up three more dungeons of varying difficulty in relative proximity to “dungeon town” as it’s been once again renamed after destruction and rebuilding…

But even so, it was still work. I had to learn how to suppress my aura of malevolence, the one I’ve never been able to suppress before, but with a lot of focus and some help from Livvie, who apparently has a similar aura, I’ve managed to at least reduce it to the point that mortals simply feel a distinct sense of unease. It’s much easier to work with, especially since I’ve leaned into it by assuming the appearance of my much younger self.

Who ever would have thought that Verum Corpus could be used to recreate any past self-impression? Well, it can.

And all I needed to do to explain the similar Skillset to my true self was to say I was some kind of chosen of myself!

For the other reason though…

I glance idly at my still-cowering wife.

Cowering from me.

…

A soft sigh escapes me as I drop to the stone floor. I slowly approach her, hands held open and outstretched.

I’m sorry, Izzy. I know. I know it’s scary. It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m never going to hurt you again. Ever, I project to her through our bond alongside feelings of peace and comfort. The mortals don’t need to hear this.

Ignoring the strange looks from the three humans, I continue approaching Izahne, who… at least appears to be staying put, resisting her impulse to flee… although I can feel that she’s definitely still conflicted.

Should I just take you home for now? Would that be better for you? I gently ask.

And she hesitates, and then shakes her head.

Good.

Once I’m close enough I hold out one hand, which she shakily takes.

There. That’s a good girl. We can do this. It’s going to be alright.

Carefully, I pull her into a hug, and after a moment of shivering and feeling distinctly like she wants to run – confirmed by the ongoing fear she’s radiating – she finally calms down.

And so I just quietly hold her for a few moments as the useless humans continue to look on, thankfully silent.

…

If they violated this moment, I might actually kill them all.

***

What in the hells was that?

No, seriously. What in the hells was that?

What the hells is that thing?

“Something far older and more terrifying than you can imagine, and I’m helping you right now. You wanted a healer. You have a healer. Shut up.”

And once again, it appears to be reading my mind.

…

I have no idea how to deal with this.

…

…

A pair of hobgoblins choose that moment to ambush from behind a rocky outcropping, only for two lances of pure blackness to tear from nowhere and rip them apart.

“Ah. My apologies. A reflex, you see,” the gorgon flatly comments.

“So are you trying to be terrifying now? You say you’re going to be a healer but you keep doing things that… You know what, nevermind. What are you even doing here? This is a midlevel dungeon, it’s obviously far below your capabilities,” Rosalie interjects.

Ravona just shrugs in return. “My wife needs to be socialized more. Between my own failures and… other experiences, she’s unfortunately become quite traumatized, you see. It is my hope that more exposure to situations like this will both offer her some amount of social recovery, as well as possibly acceptance of what she is now.”

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Frederick furrows his brow. “And what is she now?”

“You have seen what she is from the trail of dismembered bodies she leaves in her wake. She was once a paladin, the kind focused on justice and aiding the weak and all that self-righteous tripe. For years following her fall from grace she was still very much herself, until… well,” she trails off while gesturing at nothing specific.

…

“That is… different alright. Very different.”

“It is indeed,” she replies with a small nod.

The fact that she hasn’t smiled once since her outburst is somehow even more unsettling than her smile had been.

The next group of monsters, she manages to contain her ‘reflex’ as she called it, and instead allows us get into formation just in time for her companion to viciously dismember them all and then promptly collapse in tears again. The sharp dichotomy in her behavior is… I don’t know what to call it. Extreme, maybe. Almost nonsensical.

But Ravona said it was due to some kind of trauma, so there’s probably an explanation. I’ve known plenty of adventurers with that level of trauma, and most of them wound up retiring from adventuring altogether. It says something about her that she’s still trying at this point despite everything, something positive about her character and strength of will.

But considering what happened the last time I said much of anything involving the vanguard, I’m not going to pry. Nope, not at all.

…

…We’re not really getting much experience with them to be honest.

…

…

“Not going to comment?”

“Hm?” the shamaness disinterestedly responds.

I awkwardly glance away. “Uh. You usually respond to my thoughts, so I thought you’d just… huh. Nevermind.”

After a moment she glances away too. “I didn’t respond because I don’t care.”

“I see, of course.”

Rosalie and Frederick both give me half-worried glances but I simply wave them off.

Another night passing with another case of the two monsters disappearing into their tent to go gods know where, and Ravona is all smiles again.

Even the vanguard seems to be in better spirits.

…Whose name I still don’t know, or anything about her really.

Should I ask…?

Oh, hells with it, what’s the worst they’ll do? I’m not hurting anything. I should be able to know at least the names and Classes of my companions, and I’m settling for even just a name. So I approach the nervous indra as we sit around the small camp eating our rations, where the two monsters are inexplicably sitting as well.

“Hey, so uh. I’m Callien, you probably know that,” I stumble. I’ve never been particularly good with introductions, possibly a side effect of typically working from the shadows… or at least, that’s how my late master taught me, but it’s difficult to stalk prey in a party, especially in a dungeon.

For the briefest of moments she actually makes eye contact with me before quickly glancing away, and after another moment offers a brief nod.

Good. That’s a start.

Now the next step.

“So… what’s your name, then?”

Her eyes go as wide as dinner plates before they rapidly flick toward me, then away… at least a few times, and her mouth opens like she wants to say something…

And then closes it again.

Ravona puts a hand on her back and gently says… absolutely nothing, but from the way they keep meaningfully looking at each other I can tell they’re communicating somehow… probably the same way the smaller one keeps reading my thoughts.

It still strikes me as strange that such a terrifying creature could work so hard to at least seem supportive, even comforting. I’d have assumed she’d be amassing power or something by now, most monsters don’t bond like this. At least I don’t think they do… Do they?

But it does seem to be working, because after another moment of hesitation, she finally says in a very small voice, “H-hades.”

Hades?

Wait.

What?

“…As in the god, or do you just share the name?” Rosalie interjects, and from the sharp glance Ravona directs her way I half expect her head to leave her body…

And yet it somehow doesn’t.

…

“Y-yes,” Hades stammers after a moment. “G-goddess.”

“We… we’ve been dungeon diving with a literal goddess, then?” Frederick says in disbelief.

The traumatized goddess goes silent, eyes firmly locked on the ground.

“As I’ve said, she’s been through a lot,” the gorgon at her side comments. “It’s entirely reasonable for her to react this way, and I’m going to help resolve it.”

I blink for a moment, absorbing this new information. “Wait, so she’s a goddess, and you’re rehabilitating her… and she’s your wife? You’re married to a goddess?”

A flat, matter-of-fact look is my only reply.

“Huh.”

…

Which one of them is more terrifying though?

…

…

“Shit. Shit shit shit, you’re a goddess too, aren’t you? I fucking knew it, I knew something was wrong, I-”

“SILENCE,” the gorgon snarls, a series of those inky tentacles erupting from the space around me and waving menacingly.

And then in a much softer voice she says, “Don’t frighten my wife. And you already know I’m not going to answer that. I am here to heal you and provide limited support, as well as attempt to help my wife move on. You can expect exactly that and no more.”

Yeah, she’s definitely some kind of goddess… but of what?

The other two are visibly more uncomfortable about this, although from a glance I can tell Frederick is torn between prostrating himself and pretending he heard nothing altogether.

I sigh. Paladins can be a strange lot when it comes to the gods. Maybe it’s the same with other religious casters, I don’t know.

Either way, we’re much deeper in the soup than I’d thought.

Why here though? Why us?

…

She’d said before that she worshipped the ‘Queen of Hunger’ or whatever… that’s definitely a deity I haven’t heard of before.

Does that mean…?

I direct a somewhat meaningful glance toward her, but another flat stare is all she returns.

Fine.

I don’t need to know.

I don’t want to know.

Maybe when this is all over, I’ll try to figure out what the hells we let into our party.

Assuming I live long enough, anyway. Assuming they let us go.

With these two, I’m not so sure.