After an interesting couple of hours in which Abaris and Nyx asked others and myself for observations about my personality and its seemingly random changes, we’ve come to a handful of interesting conclusions.

First, from Olive’s and Vivianne’s recollections, my more petulant and majestic personality subset is definitely consistent with Astraea’s personality, right down to how much she despised waiting and the nonchalant way she took her throne.

Second, the aggressive, dismissive, and more threatening personality subset is most likely inherited from the Queen of Hunger – not necessarily because anyone had recollections of her behavior, but rather because those characteristics started manifesting some amount of time after Owyn had forcibly exposed that portion of my soul.

Third, both of those subsets can manifest at the same time, causing a hybrid of impatience, entitlement, and aggression, like when Vivianne had confronted us in the throne room.

Fourth, we don’t yet have a conclusive way to tell if their manifesting has a trigger or is entirely random.

So, I guess we’ll need to watch out for that, and in the meantime just stay cautious and vigilant – which works out well enough, it’s not like we’re wanting for work.

I’ve set a hundred of my kin to actively search for signs of former civiliazation and sent them in differing directions, so it’s only a matter of time until –

“Her majesty, if this one might intrude?”

I turn to the fox spirit. “What is it?”

She grins her usual toothy grin before asking, “Would her majesty find a map of value?”

...

Twenty minutes later, the party is gathered around a surprisingly detailed map of the plane, lovingly drawn with a small brush and bottle of ink on a large piece of parchment, both of which Olive provided from her dimensional storage. It shows the castle town, of course – clearly labeled ‘Moonside’ – as well as what must be at least a hundred small towns scattered around it, and even more villages.

“I hope you don’t expect me to memorize all of these, because I’m not going to.”

Nyx snorts. “No surprise there.”

“Her mistress repeats the same twice again, to this one’s chagrin,” Olive says with a flick of her tails.

Wait, what?

“Twice?” I ask.

She returns a crypic yet toothy smile. “This one serves, and this one waits to serve.”

“Excellent.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That made less sense than what you said first, but points for trying I guess. So, how are we going to tackle this?”

All eyes turn toward Abaris.

“W-well,” he stammers at being caught off guard, “I suppose we have two options... the slow way in which we travel to them personally one by one, and the fast way in which Nemesis sends out... her? their? Their wraiths to clear roads like before as well as the towns themselves.”

I glance around the room. “My vote is the fast way. And knowing this lot, my vote is probably four votes.”

Izahne nods while Omorth and Olive just don’t respond at all, but I can tell through our bonds that they don’t disagree.

“That’s fine, it’s not like I have skin in this game,” Nyx dismisses.

Pearl sighs. “I dunno why I’m even here now. I don’t think healing even works on most of you.”

And Abaris just shrugs.

Without another word, I instruct my kin along direct paths to the towns, leaving behind a corridor of them to make roads. I’ll deal with the villages later.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

***

So, Olive can apparently spirit us away to whatever town we want. It’s really convenient – or would be, if I wanted to travel to any of them.

Vivianne seems satisfied enough that I’m actually working to make the plane inhabitable again, though she still won’t let me in the castle without a fight. Whatever.

For now we’ve just set up base in Darkwell, where we first set foot on this plane. The others have made it their purpose to check all the neighboring living spaces throughout the town to make sure they’re at least habitable, as well as taking note of what exactly is available. There’s a smithy, a butcher shop, a grocery store, a general store, and most of the other typical trappings of town life, all empty and abandoned.

Of them all, the one needing the most rework is the butcher shop, since their wares were apparently left to rot after past-me sucked the mana from everything living. That rotting meat damaged a number of surfaces, which Pearl unnecessarily sterilized and Abaris used spells to restore. Afterwards, Omorth used his own edge to smooth the surfaces since his blade is supernaturally sharp, straight, and durable.

There is, however, one more building of note.

A temple.

I get the impression that there’s one in every town, and at least some kind of altar or somesuch in the villages.

And, they’re all to me. Er, Astraea. They’re to Astraea.

(Nice try.)

Hey, shut up.

Anyway, I’m going to go check that one out.

Considering the small size of Darkwell, I’m not surprised that the temple is small enough to have a single door in place of double doors. It’s made of dark wood contrasting with the white stone, making it stand out from the relatively plain houses around it.

The inside is as simple as the outside, but with the addition of a large, carpeted space spanning most of the floorplan other than a stone table at the end. A time-worn statue of a woman holding a crescent moon above her head stands behind it as if beckoning her faithful to approach.

Nyx materializes unannounced nearby with a smirk on her face. “Oh, so this one’s a woman? Can you actually tell, or are you just pretending to care for once?”

I snort. “Of course I can tell, she’s me.”

“She?” my former Assistant probes.

“Yes, of course I’m... I’m...”

I’m what?

Nyx nods sagely. “Yes, you, confused. So about the same as usual?”

...

“Just going to ignore it all and focus on whatever’s directly in front of you again?”

I sigh. “I don’t know what else to do. And it’s not like you have any idea how it feels to process all these random impulses and thoughts! They’re mine but they’re not mine but they feel so natural that it’s hard to separate them from my own!”

“Then don’t.” And with that, she promptly dematerializes.

Not like that prevents me from seeing her. She drifts out of the building through a glass-deficient window looking like she’s conflicted between laughing and slapping her forehead in frustration.

Not like I feel that much different.

I spend the next few hours pulling dust from every surface in building, after which I use my ash to polish every bit of exposed stone until it gleams. I even used some to touch up my statue, although I’ll admit that whatever kind of stone it’s made of, it doesn’t match my compressed ash. I guess I’ll just settle for the marbled look until I can have a proper artisan restore it.

...

I can’t help but think that her memories are more prominent when I’m in a place that has some kind of significance to her. I’ll have to mention it to... Actually...

Hey Abaris, I think Astraea’s impulses could be triggered if I’m somewhere that meant something to her.

And obviously, I don’t get a reply. I don’t have a soul bond to the mage, or the healer for that matter. Now that I think of it, she’s probably right... unless she or Abaris is injured, I’m not sure there’s any need for her in the party. I can heal my death knights myself, while Nyx and Olive can just dematerialize to regenerate while I feed them more mana to fuel it.

I guess I should bring that up the next time the party is in one place. It’s one thing if she wants to stay of her own free will, but if she wants to leave I won’t stop her. She should have that option, it’s only fair.

...

Since when do I care about being fair to mortals?

...

...

Whatever.

I finish cleaning and polishing the last parts of the temple – namely a small storage room to one side and an even smaller living space containing a well-used writing desk and a wooden plank with a wear pattern suggesting it was used as a bed.

Loyalty. I owe this person.

...

You know what, I’m just going to roll with it because stopping on every alien thought is just going to leave me standing around confused forever.

I find myself absentmindedly fishing through myself for... something.

I’m not really sure what, but it feels right.

And then I find it. A spark, infinitesimally small and yet distinct.

Words come to me unbidden, another sensation I’ve been growing used to.

[Come forth, oh loyal servant, you bound of blood and soul;

A gift of life I offer, retake your place and role.]

I feel a torrent of mana rush from me, surrounding that lonely spark in a rapidly coalescing knot of solid matter, slowly forming what is unquestionably a human body.

Or human-like, I guess. I can vaguely tell that this one isn’t human.

When the highly detailed process is finished, the body falls to the ground in a heap before suddenly gasping for air and looking around frantically.

“Wh-what!? Where...” it babbles semi-coherently.

I reach down and grip it by the chin, tilting its confused gaze up to meet mine. “I have offered you the gift of resurrection. Do not mistake it for mercy, as you serve me in life and death; I have simply provided a reprieve.”

It starts shaking, tears pouring from its eyes in rapture. “M-my Lady!?”

I manage to resist the reflexive sigh. “Yes, but also no.”

Well, Identify needs more practice. Why not?

[Homunculus – Unknown (Priest of Astraea) - Level 0]

...

I guess I know the next question I’m going to ask Abaris.