“I’ll have to think about it. You’ve done a lot of really bad stuff…”

I take a sip of my tea… that same nostalgic blend, the one Olive always made… after hundreds of years Nula has come close to replicating the brew quality, but she’s still not quite there.

But I don’t mind. Variety and all that…

As for my companion in the gazebo in my garden, it’s clear she never really did develop a taste for it.

…Which is why hers has a touch of fruit juice added, just enough to sweeten it a bit. She shouldn’t need much, she isn’t a hummingbird after all! And the oversized, heavily-textured tumbler she’s sipping from seems to be working much better with her claws than my dainty, tasteful porcelain ever did.

Now if only the conversation were going more agreeably.

“I have, that’s true. And I can’t just blame the Mantle of Malevolence.”

“Thank you for that,” Eleonor quietly answers. “If you’d tried to deny or deflect it, I would have left by now.”

I nod silently.

Peacefulness settles over the maze of hedges and flowers as we simply enjoy each other’s company, punctuated only by my head maid occasionally appearing silently to add more to our cups.

…

I’ve told her before that she can delegate this role to the others, but the powerful nightwalker continues to insist she handle it herself. Mildly irritating at times, I suppose, but ultimately I don’t mind.

It’s good to have talented and dedicated help.

…

…

“So you’ve been staying at the Feral Isle all this time, then? How are they treating you?”

A small smile crosses Eleonor’s scaled face. “Really really well. The big man with the fancy clothes is nice, he gives me whatever I ask for but I don’t ask for much. It feels weird and wrong just taking from people even if they want to give it, I’m supposed to be a hero. I’m supposed to be strong and provide for myself, right? Right.”

I lean my head on one hand, elbow rested on the table. “It’s nice to hear you sound like you. You’ve been trying so hard to look and sound sophisticated… but I remember you, little sister. I haven’t forgotten. You aren’t some fancy maiden or even a shining golden hero. You’re just you, and I’m glad you’re here.”

My literal hero blushes faintly. “I’m supposed to be a hero though. There’s all these expectations, you know! The normal people expect me to be strong and special and something to look up to. Something to… aspire to? Is that the word? Yeah, that’s the one,” she muses, ending with a brow furrow and head scratch.

“And that’s fine.”

I take another sip of my tea.

…

“I meant it though. You’re welcome to return here, with no expectations from me – well, that’s not entirely true. I’d like to continue meeting like this, if that would be alright with you. Maybe it sounds strange, but I miss the life I had before Izahne went missing.”

As I speak my second first wife’s name, I feel a spike of attention from her through our link.

She’s watching me. Very closely.

But I know it’s not because she’s jealous… well, not like that anyway.

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…

“You know…”

My chosen little sister tilts her head in that adorable way, still adorable through her heavy scales.

“You could always just be what my own people here aspire to be, or even that for the adventurers all over my plane. Be an adventurer. Form a party. Be strong. Be something to aspire to in that way. Why does a hero have to fight a demon lord, anyway? That always bothered me, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense especially considering it’s all just a game to the gods, entertainment for beings that have been watching the mortal world far too long looking for something to do.”

…And she blinks absently.

…

“Tell me you knew that, Eleonor. Please tell me you knew that.”

“I uh, um. I… hmm,” my hero stumbles, clearly tripped up…

But I’m pretty sure she knew. Did she just forget? I’m not how she could…

I sigh lightly. “Sweetie, there’s no hard and fast rule within the Record that you and I have to fight. If you want to be a limiter on my actions like Izzy is, or like Nyx used to be-”

(I heard that.)

I know you did, but you’re not here.

My former Assistant huffs in my head as I continue.

“Anyway, if you want to be like them, the best thing you can do is be here, right here, with me. Then if I start to do something awful like committing another atrocity because it seems like the best idea at the time, you can stop me. And no, I don’t mean by fighting. You can just tell me. More often than not, I don’t recognize those atrocities as atrocities. I’m a literally heartless monster after all – even if I technically had one before I was me.”

“Huh. That… doesn’t really sound wrong…”

Eleonor simply stares at her cup in thought for the next ten minutes or so, and I simply let her. There’s nothing wrong with taking in the peaceful quiet of my garden after all, especially with good company.

My family’s company.

“I also don’t want to fight you, little sister,” I finally say, breaking the silence. “Not because I think you’ll kill me… You don’t completely know what I’m capable of, do you? I don’t want to kill you. I want you to live.”

A brief wave of nostalgia washes over me.

Livvie.

I’d felt the same for Livvie… although not the same.

Family… they’re both family…

But…

Different kinds of family? Does that really matter? I’m not sure.

I’ll have to think more on that, probably.

In the meantime though, I should be paying attention to my sister, the same one that triggered my current curiosity.

“You’re… you’re right. I don’t know what you’re capable of, or even what you are. They don’t know what you are either, but they’re scared of you.”

“…Who is scared of me?”

Eleonor’s eyes go wide as she comically slaps both hands over her mouth.

Ah.

She wasn’t supposed to say that.

And so I sigh again.

“Alright. I don’t particularly care who ‘they’ are, as long as they’re not a threat to me or my family. And yes, that includes you – never forget that.”

…

“C-can we pretend I didn’t say that?”

“Sure,” I shrug. “Like I said, I don’t particularly care. I could use our bond to pry, but I’m sure you’ve noticed how I haven’t done that. I want to trust you, Eleonor. Can I trust you?”

She glances down at the surface of the diluted juice in her cup for a moment, before offering a small nod.

I’ll take it. That’s enough.

“I’m glad. Thank you, Eleonor.”

A small blush crosses my hero’s face briefly as a fresh silence stretches out between us.

…

…

Leaving me alone with my thoughts, at least for now.

…

Huh.

You know…

That’s… not a bad idea.

“Can I ask you something? Maybe it’s important, or maybe it’s not.”

The pseudodragon tilts her head again, and so I continue.

“The only reason you didn’t accept my offer of godhood is that you wanted to watch me as a hero, right? You’re definitely high enough level for it, I know you are.”

Her eyes widen and she stares, without her usual subtle blankness or distraction.

“Then hear me out. You want to watch over me, and I’m open to you being my conscience – or one of them, at least. But how well can a mortal, even an ascendant hero, watch over a literal god? Even one who isn’t as ridiculously broken as I am? Wouldn’t you be better able to do that with some kind of Mantle? You’d certainly be able to do it for a longer amount of time… as you are, even you will die from age eventually. Maybe, anyway. I don’t really know. Gods definitely don’t though.”

I can tell her wheels are turning from the look on her face, as she drifts between watching the ripples on her drink’s surface, the small moths flitting between the flowers blooming in the total darkness, the wind fluttering the hanging leaves of the hedge maze…

And then she finally answers, “What is involved? Nobody ever says that, just that people get strong and then they turn into gods.”

I smile. “It’s much easier than you might think. You just need to have some idea of what you want to be, what kind of god… what you want to represent, and then have at least one current god vouch for your final ascension.”

I reach across the table to set my hand on hers. “And I’m willing to vouch for you. I’m sure Artemis, Izahne, and Eris would too. Assuming others wouldn’t as well! Although I guess Eris mostly just humors me these days, but that’s fine.”

…

…

“Then,” she says very quietly, contemplating our hand before turning hers over to take mine, “Let’s, um. Let’s do that. Let’s do that.”