Yeah, I was right. Weird.

(Sure, but I was expecting weirder. Like much more weird.)

My paladin is softly snoring as per her nightly usual, wrapped around my arm and radiating positive emotions.

So ‘put my finger in your mouth and then drain me’ and then asking me ‘how it was’ isn’t as weird as you expected?

(I… you know, you’re incredibly naïve. Extremely. Irredeemably. But I guess it at least means I have one less thing to try to teach you right from wrong regarding.)

Wow, rude.

(What? It’s true.)

I… you know what, I don’t even care.

I go back to my usual dimensional storage repetition… but I’ve noticed the returns seem way less than they used to be. At least in levels. I guess it at least does seem a little faster. Maybe practice makes a difference, even for Skills? I’ll have to test that.

…

I’m bored, so I decide to scroll through my Status again.

Hey, do any of these titles even do anything?

(Probably not. Most titles are like, a Status trophy for doing something special,) Nyx says.

What about that familiar one? I don’t remember ever being anyone’s familiar. Wouldn’t that normally have a bond like these other ones?

My Assistant sighs. (A past incarnation was that hero’s familiar, probably. If your soul is really as broken as Owyn implied, it probably doesn’t get properly scrubbed when you reincarnate.)

Interesting.

…

What does that mean?

(It means that whatever you were before is still with you now, because it was part of your Akashic Self. Pretty much everything related to being an Ascendant or any part of the cycle of rebirth related to the Record is in your Akashic Self or Anima somewhere. You didn’t seem to have an ego when we woke up a few weeks ago, so I doubt that’s the issue. A lot of past knowledge seems to be rattling around in your consciousness, so I’d suspect it’s either deeply ingrained in your Anima or Akashic Self.)

So you’re saying my soul is remembering things?

(Probably. It would explain why you have titles from a past incarnation. You yourself certainly haven’t killed any gods to my knowledge.)

Yeah, me either. What were we talking about? Oh right! The familiar thing.

(You’re nobody’s familiar right now. If you were, you’d have a trait for it. Probably.)

Probably?

(Hey, I’ve only been doing this for a few weeks, alright?) she huffs.

Yeah, me too.

Me too.

***

Izahne rushed me past the party last night, so we never brought up meeting Markus or Eleonor. She doesn’t seem particularly motivated to now either, even though waiting for them all to feed themselves seems to be a good enough opportunity. She has, however, been very interested in what I think about Omorth’s cooking, now that she knows I can actually consume food if I want to.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I’m not particularly interested, although thanks to her and Nyx, I’m now aware what ‘salty’ and ‘greasy’ taste like, and also that the ‘greasy’ parts stain clothing about as well as the ‘coffee’ I attempted to drink yesterday. It’d be so much easier to go without, but academy rules about staying in uniform and blah blah whatever. Human things. Eh.

My paladin is aggressively trying to blot out the most recent stain on my jacket, and the others seem unoccupied enough for people inhaling meat and bread.

“So I ran into these people yesterday, a scout and a mage,” I say. “Izahne suggested we should run multiple party dungeons with them.”

Abaris swallows and dabs his face with a bit of cloth before answering. “You met people? Hmm, it certainly wouldn’t be a bad idea, if they are trustworthy. How exactly did you meet them?”

“I… ran into them.”

The obounis blinks.

“One of them anyway. But I caught them.”

Pearl giggles, and then coughs. Yeah, I know how that feels now thanks to yesterday.

“What do we know about them?” Omorth asks.

Izahne pauses with a bite halfway to her mouth and says, “Not much, to be fair. They are third years. The scout is a very excitable ilmesori, while the mage is quite a bit more taciturn, and most likely human… He was carrying a lot of books, though I’m not sure why he wouldn’t just use dimensional storage. I have their contacts, so we can ask them more at some point.”

Wait, what? “How do you know they were third years? That means they’ve been at the academy for three years, right? What’s an ilma-whatever?”

Omorth chuckles. “Ilmesori are a kind of beastfolk. Oh, but don’t call them beastfolk. They really don’t like that.”

“Remember the spines on her head?” my paladin asks. “Ilmesori have those, it’s one way you can recognize them.”

Huh.

“Were they in academy uniforms?” Pearl asks. “If they were, you can tell what year they are by this here.” She points to a patch of fabric on my jacket that is miraculously not stained yet, unlike the rest of it. “First years are yellow. Seconds are orange, thirds are red, and anyone past that is blue.”

Izahne nods. “Yes, they were in uniform.”

“And that answers that!” the healer chirps.

Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her heal anyone.

Whatever.

***

Do not select lectures for next quarter. I have a special assignment for you and your party.

At least that’s what the paper bird that just smacked me in the face read. I get the impression the headmaster enjoys doing that. I hand it over to my wife.

“What does this mean?” she asks after looking it over.

I shrug. “We should probably tell the others about this. I assume by ‘my party’ he means them.”

Izahne nods, but I feel some negative somethings from her.

“I know. It’s my fault. I’m working on it, okay? He won’t let me stop.”

Thankfully we were on our way to the cafeteria, so we’ll have an immediate opportunity.

Once we arrive, we head to our usual table. Or, I do anyway. Izahne needs to gather food. Once she returns with some kind of ‘noodle’ thing, she immediately offers me a forkful of it.

(She’s not going to stop until you try it, you know,) Nyx warns.

And she’s probably right. I sigh and give in, and now I have a swooshy stripe of something red added to my jacket. I wonder if anyone will mistake me for a third year?

Ah, there’s the others. It takes them longer to get here since their classes seem to be on a different floor. It’d probably be a lot more efficient if they used interstitial spaces for them, but Abaris already explained once that some experiments and magics shouldn’t be used in them since they could potentially cause a collapse. Apparently that would cause everyone and everything inside it to be expelled violently back into the host plane, sometimes even mixed together.

I thought it sounded interesting, but was flatly warned against trying it by the usual white f-f-fu… him.

Once they’ve gotten their own meals, they join us, and before they even take a first bite I make my announcement…

“So here, read this.”

…By making the headmaster the heavy. Which, is completely fair! This is his idea or whatever!

(Just… that doesn’t always work, you know. Technically this is still all your fault.)

I know! But thanks to him, it’s at least a little bit less my fault, yeah?

(No,) my Assistant deadpans.

Fine.

I see looks of disappointment run across the others’ faces, which comes as no surprise.

“So, I think I’m figuring this part out. So, I know this is all my fault, right? And you probably already had plans for what you wanted to do next semester. Some of you have the rest of your training mapped out, I’m sure,” I say. “Which is why you’re upset now. But I’m sorry, I know I messed up, and I’m getting better.”

“Are you?” Pearl asks. “Are you really? Or is it because the headmaster literally won’t let you act out?”

“Well…” I start, then notice my paladin’s gaze. “Yes and no?”

The whole table sighs.

“It’s not my fault humans are complicated, okay? Wraiths are simple. Food, eat. Not food, not eat. See? Simple. But humans? Lots and lots of rules. It doesn’t help that my Class gave me all these interesting Skills that work well together, almost like they’re supposed to be used together. But when I use them together, I’m breaking taboos? Why are they taboos? How am I supposed to know they’re off-limits? I feel like someone somewhere told everyone all of this and I’m the only one who doesn’t know, which makes sense because I’m not human!”

(You’re ranting.)

Everyone looks absolutely exasperated – something I’m very good at recognizing thanks to Nyx – but Abaris still chooses to answer.

“Someone did tell us all of this, and over a long period of time.”

“And who, exactly, was that? When am I supposed to meet them!?” I snap.

He gives me a small, thoughtful smile and says, “Our parents, families, or caretakers. Something we know you haven’t had.”