“I should have known this was too easy.”

Dolos meanwhile simply meets my glare with a shrug and an easy smile. “Can’t be that surprised, yeah?”

I sigh. “Not really, no. You always show up at the eleventh hour to mangle my plans, or lead in some interloper you arranged, or start another war. I don’t really get what your obsession with irritating me is. What, are you lonely or something?”

“‘Ardly! Ya rilly think yer th’ only one ah bother?”

Shrugging back I answer, “I don’t really care. Now, what the hells do you want?”

The god of betrayal pantomimes injury, wincing and backpedaling and holding his chest as though the words themselves had done him harm before saying, “Oh, ah, ouch, yeah? An’ here Ah am, outta th’ goodwill o’ mah heart, come ta offer mah well wishes fer a newborn god.”

“Whatcha doing?”

Eros’ sudden appearance doesn’t interrupt the current conflict or theatrics at all, although the second she notices our unwelcome thespian a smile crosses her face.

“Holy crap, Slowdo!? Gods, how long has it been?”

He… he actually scowled. “I told you never to call me that. But as always you can’t bring yourself to listen!”

I blink. “Wait, did you just-”

“Did ah jus’ what?”

Sidling up and throwing an arm around him the pink succubus continues, “What, don’t pretend you didn’t miss me! Not after all the fun we’ve had.”

“You… you what?” I half stammer.

“We’re pals!”

“We are not ‘pals’!”

The two loudly bicker for longer than I’m willing to pay attention, sinking into my own thoughts… ‘ruminating’ as Nyx always puts it, before… speak of the devil.

“Would you both please shut up? I DO NOT CARE who knows who or for how long or whatever ‘fun’ you’ve had or what you call each other! I am here for an apotheosis ritual, AND IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO HELP THEN GET THE HELLS OUT!”

Vulcan sharply nods his head in agreement. “Neither of you were invited, but I don’t entirely care as long as you stop interfering with our work. Today is a big day for my assistant.”

“Woah, wait,” I cut in. “Your assistant? She’s my Assistant… Although I guess-”

“Shut up. Just, shut up. Do you have any idea at all what I’ve been doing for hundreds of years now? I’ve been here! You know, honing my craft! Being productive, unlike you who simply smash and kill and destroy! I’ve been learning from a divinity who shares my creative visions!”

Izzy loudly clears her throat. “People, can we please focus on the task at hand and argue later? I’m sure plenty of us would rather be anywhere but here.”

I don’t miss her subtle glance toward both Eris and Sekhmet, who both look… yeah, pretty much like she’d said.

And oddly enough, that’s enough to shut them up.

Everyone. Even me. Although I’ll admit the hard look she gave me was a strong motivator… the one that says there will be consequences.

So I just quietly sigh instead and gesture toward the circle.

…

The ritual itself is no different from the others… mostly boring, different people saying some short somesuch about how they think Nyx deserves apotheosis. Rinse, repeat.

Maybe it did surprise me a little when Eros and even Dolos actually did join the circle and do the same. And mister betrayal himself? He had nothing but good things to say, mostly about her creations like the u-comm – completely ignoring my contribution of course, but even so.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Meanwhile, Eros mostly offered commentary about her ‘curves’ and ‘potential’, whatever that means. I don’t particularly care.

And done. Everyone’s done, everyone’s said their piece, everyone’s agreed Nyx should be one of us.

Sure enough, that same blinding light envelops my former Assistant, and for the first time in recent memory, her eyes show interest in something other than the trinkets she’s assembling or carving or filing or whatever she does all day. Not even a moment later her form blurs, suddenly joining with the wooden doll she and her mentor crafted for the occasion.

…

No, they didn’t forget. I didn’t either, actually… I had another of my more advanced kin ready to serve the purpose, but they were already prepared.

The pressure of new divinity settles around us, although I don’t particularly recognize the Domain… or Domains?

Although at least one of them does seem vaguely familiar.

…

…

“How do you feel, child?” Vulcan asks quietly.

…

She’s still silent, although her expression is rapidly tightening…

And then she screams and collapses.

***

That’s just great.

Great.

The furies are still shut-ins, but I’ve mostly come to accept that.

What I hadn’t expected was that Nyx of all people was going to join them in it. Haunted gazes are all she’s shown me in the past three weeks, unable to even form proper words in my presence for some reason.

Are her Domains vulnerable to mine or something?

…

I did sneak a peek, although it was clear that she felt it happen from her immediate flight – proverbial, not literal, considering she can teleport.

Memory? Not sure. And what the hells even is ‘Transmigration’?

Maybe that’s what smelled familiar, though. I think I met some other… was he a god? I don’t remember. Someone else who was of the Domain of Memory.

Or was it because I have a time-related Skill?

Not that it matters. None of that changes anything, she’s still avoiding me.

Well, whatever I guess.

…

…

I’m bored.

…

Not any more than any other day I guess, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Bored is bored, and I’m bored.

Conveniently enough, my centipede knight chooses then to enter from the end of my pocket into nothing.

I shift on my throne to better face her. At least with my face, anyway – I’ll never stop appreciating propping myself apathetically on an angle on its smooth surfaces. “Yes, Vivi. What is it?”

“My queen,” she answers, kneeling on… nothing, really. There’s no gravity here. “There is news to report.”

I wave a hand idly. “Well then, what is it?”

We’ve had this exchange a thousand, thousand times by now I’m sure. She says there’s news, I ask her to tell me the news, and then she finally says it. Why doesn’t she just lead with the news? I don’t know. Maybe I’m not supposed to know.

“Regarding the new structure in the castle town. Other than an inspection by your esteemed self, it has been completed.”

“Huh.”

That was faster than I’d expected, although my subjects are certainly of significant skill, at least for mortals.

…

Why do we call immortal and undead races ‘mortal’? They don’t have finite lifespans… doesn’t that by definition make them immortal?

…

Ah. Vivi is still waiting for me to respond… patiently as ever, sure, but still waiting.

Why does that matter? I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.

“I suppose that means I should come inspect it, yes?”

“If my queen would be so kind.”

The way the ancient monster addresses me is still satisfying in a way I don’t understand… like so many other things. Astraea didn’t understand it either, but neither of us… of me, really cared about it enough to think too much.

“Well, let’s get to it then, I suppose.”

***

Nyx has finally been leaving her room lately… which took her long enough, it’s only been five months! Just how long does a newborn god have to hide in the dark? It makes no sense.

Well, at least she’s out now.

…And still avoiding me. How exactly does one approach someone who can teleport when they don’t want to be approached?

I guess she’ll come around if and when she wants to come around.

…

At first I wasn’t sure why exactly she ended up this way… a god of memory, I mean. Wouldn’t crafting or innovation or something have made more sense? It’s what she built her life around, I’d thought.

But then Izzy reminded me that she wasn’t actually Nyx, not really.

I am.

Nyx as I know her… was just a mass of my old memories forced into the shape of a sidhe entirely for the purpose of jamming her back in my head, so we could watch each other suffer.

Family. I snort absentmindedly.

A sudden wave of concern reaches me from my current family, or at least my two wives, and I scramble to project them reassurance.

Not you! No, not you, never you. I was just thinking about her… MY sister. That’s all.

“And yet memory is who we are, even more so than souls. You do realize that, don’t you? You were empty, nothing, when she was removed from you.”

I flinch from the unexpected commentary, from a shadow of a nearby statue of myself – not hard to find, my castle is littered with them.

“Ah! You’re back.”

“I never left,” my former Assistant hollowly replies.

I furrow my brow. “Yes, yes I know. But I haven’t been able to talk to you it… well, we spent a long time not talking anyway, and I know, before you say it, that was all my fault,” I stammer.

Since when have I ever felt nervous talking to Nyx?

“Don’t call me that.”

“Wait, why not? It’s who you are.”

She slowly shakes her head. “I’m not. Not anymore. Maybe she’s still in me somewhere… it took some time for us to find our equilibrium, but this happens every time I’m reborn. I’m too big for them to truly integrate.”

“Then who or what are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks, finally leaving the shadow. “I am Mnemosyne. My memory follows me, and is me. And because of that, I’ll never know freedom.”

I rub my chin. “From what?”

A sigh and a sad smile are my response for a moment before she finally says, “From you.”