Yeah, so that didn’t go anywhere.
Names?
So many names. Many, many, many names.
And none of them stuck. Most of the ones Izzy suggested were her ancestors’ names…
It’d probably just be easier to name them after her late parents, to be honest, but I wonder if that’d just remind her that they’re dead.
Probably.
In the meantime though, I’m converting one of the spare guest rooms, the other one closest to my own – since I gave the closest one to Eleonor… or, uh. Hyperion I mean. That was a whole different argument, but whatever. I’d just assumed my wife didn’t need her own room here since she’d just share mine.
Whatever.
To be fair, she was expecting to bring her child everywhere, and while Hope is immune to poisons…
Our new child is going to be mortal… or at least part mortal.
That means bad things when poisons are involved. Obviously.
Now if only it had been obvious to me, that wouldn’t have been a fight too.
Why is she so aggressive right now? Or… that isn’t the right word… what is it…?
(Protective. She’s fucking pregnant, idiot.)
And what? Why does that mean anything? They’re going to be fine, and if anything happens I’ll just fix them. It’s not difficult!
Nyx sighs through our bond. (No, you really don’t get it. I don’t know why I waste my time.)
Then don’t! Fine! I’m already on bad terms with Izzy, I do not want to fight with you too.
(Whatever.)
Sighing back, I decide it’s time to get back to work.
So far all I’ve done is smooth and carpet the floors…
And pad them…
And pad the walls…
And soften the lighting…
And a whole host of other demands my pregnant wife made.
Still no furniture though… but thanks to my past life’s memories, I actually know what mortals do for this.
So I make a base with four legs, followed by a cage above it. I thought about just reshaping the stone of the castle for it, but I’ve already learned my lesson considering how thickly padded everything else is.
Gods forbid they fall down and lose hit points.
Whatever. It’s fine, really. It’s fine.
So I form it out of my own ash, because why wouldn’t I? And of course, padding again. So much padding, why not.
And blankets, and… I don’t even know what this thing is, but I know mortals put them above these things? With shiny dangly things?
And now some kind of dresser type thing, with a flat top and a removable pad, with a few drawers in it… for clothes, I assume.
She’s probably going to have me make those too, I’d assume, but I’ve already got an answer for that, one that’ll probably also make her a little less hostile, although her hostility is…
Weird.
Very weird.
Yes, she’s demanding and snappy, but the whole time she’s been insistently holding my hand at minimum if not fully attached to me from some direction.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Which, fine. I don’t even know if we’re actually fighting as a result, but fine.
I don’t even know what she’s doing right now. I could always sense her since I’m pretty sure she’s still on my plane… but no, I’ll leave her be. I’ll take the separation for the moment, even though I can still feel the pull of her Mantle in the back of my mind.
I know I want to see her.
But that’s fine. If I can resist Consuming every mortal around me, I can resist this.
Probably.
Ah, finally done. Hopefully she’ll be satisfied enough with this layout… although I guess I could just move everything around again.
I’d been tripping over Hope constantly for the first few minutes or so, but it’s mercifully stopped… and gone quiet. I assume it’s decided to rest somewhere.
…
Although now that I think of it, it doesn’t sleep, does it?
…
…
Wait, where did it go?
I spend the next few minutes looking everywhere in the room I can, once, twice, before giving up.
It’s not here.
My child is missing.
This… is going to be a whole new fight, isn’t it?
Probably.
Even so, it doesn’t matter.
Because I can feel my own concern rising… as well as rage.
It isn’t just missing.
IT ISN’T ON MY PLANE.
***
“Excellent work, old friend.”
The other god gives me a pleasant wave before he steps into nowhere like always, as if he’d found a curtain in the plane.
And now we wait. I’d had my friend leave the abomination a letter with clear instructions…
Now it just has to find it and act accordingly. Not that it has any choice.
I’m not giving it one.
The others thought me a fool for this plan… or even the barest skeleton of it. But that’s fine… I can handle it on my own.
It’s not difficult.
Kidnap the thing’s young, apply pressure, and wait.
…
If anything, this is the hard part.
More difficult than getting the horror thing in a cage, and it made excessive use of tooth and claw. No surprise for what it is… it is a horror, after all, although what type… I have no idea. It looks to be a new subtype.
It took some effort to resist simply killing the beast but considering what its so-called parent is capable of I’d much rather simply keep this transactional.
And anonymous. The less likely it is to recognize me, the better.
Considering Dolos even managed to get his hands on one of Ceto’s old trinkets before he died along with his plane – a gilded gadget currently collared to the horror - it’s not like it has any way to find me either. I don’t want to imagine how bad that would probably end up!
***
Izzy, Hope is missing.
Frustration and irritation ripple through our link as she replies, Weren’t you watching? You were supposed to be watching!
I was! I was redoing this room like you wanted, and when I turned around it was gone!
Then look for it! Look! It can’t have gone far, was the door open? You know how Hope likes to explore!
A heavy sigh escapes me as I head toward the door…
And almost miss the rough paper hanging from it in my haste.
…
…
“This… is a ransom note. Isn’t it?”
…
“Not again.”
Someone kidnapped it. There’s a ransom note here.
No. No, no no no, my wife answers, her irritation immediately shifting to fear. Worry.
She’s so worried.
Whoever did this has made my wife worry.
…
I AM GOING TO DESTROY THEM.
Utterly. Wholly.
I just need to find them first.
***
It’s not working.
IT’S NOT WORKING.
And the rejection I feel from my attempts feel far, far too familiar. I can’t even see Hope’s soul in the space between space.
Gone.
Just gone.
Izzy is beside herself, shifting unstably between barely concealed rage and outright sorrow. I’ve been struggling to keep her emotions from spilling over into some other kind of action… there’s not much point in picking a pantheon and doing damage until someone talks.
Believe me, I know. It’s futile.
Meanwhile, Livvie…
…Is taking this far, far worse. I suppose it’s not much of a surprise, considering how quickly she bonded with the little monster, but as soon as I told her our link flooded with some of the darkest emotions I’ve ever felt from her.
Not rage.
I don’t even have words for this… although I suppose it does feel vaguely like grandmother’s aura…
Like my own aura.
Malevolence, maybe.
She wants to kill, to destroy, entirely for the purpose of the damage done.
And I understand. I understand very well. Not just because Hope will become Pearl someday…
Partially at least. Probably.
…
Why do I feel… What is this? More…
More links?
Many of them.
Many, many more links… but vaguely distant as though separated by something.
…
…
Ah. I think I understand.
Livvie had told me once that she had literally thousands of retainers… and that she simply let them be, ignored them.
She’s calling them, all of them, to her. And I’m feeling them through her. I didn’t know it worked that way.
I wonder if she or Izzy can feel my own through me.
Maybe.
***
Enough is enough.
Normally they all leave me well enough alone… alone to my own interests, my subdomain, my own small world.
But that isn’t enough, is it?
Is it ever enough?
I stand in the middle of the largest clearing of the Feral Isle.
MY Feral Isle.
And I wait.
Why?
Because they’re coming.
Already the earliest of their number arrive… gathering around my enormous flaming form, my lustrous coat singeing the air itself in my simmering rage.
I won’t allow it.
I WON’T.
This won’t be forgiven. I’ve had enough. I’ll destroy and rebuild the pantheons myself from the ground up, to the last name if I have to.
I’ll eat their hearts myself, every single one.
But for now, I wait. I have to.
Why?
Because I am the hunt.
And I have summoned the Wild Hunt itself.