Priestess Tak confronted this temple’s own Priestess Cecilia behind closed doors. There hadn’t been anyone else to welcome them.

Minimine tapped Jyn on the shoulder, pointing to the floor. She let the child-goddess down, the whole process of Minimine finding the floor with her little feet before suredly planting them there rewarding the watching Clerics with delight.

The temple they’d found themselves in was much like the one in Clarinets. The floor, however, was swept clean. The stone here had a kind of sheen that wasn’t so in Clarinets—the stone there had a duller flavor and more grit.

Some of the Clerics were actually from here, and they were happy enough to show everyone around.

Unlike the simple setup in Clarinets, the twin Temples to Minimine and Maximine here came with attached dormitories, shared by the clergy of both goddesses. A wooden fence delineated the Grounds of Reincarnation from the other godesses’ temples, which were all, too, strung along on either side of a paved path.

Also, unlike the temple row in Clarinets, there were visitors. They were sparse, only three or four people walking along the path in the busiest times. Most of them were elderly, sometimes accompanied by children bearing whatever offerings their patrons liked in little baskets balanced on their heads.

Back in the temple, Page was busy looking at every nook and cranny. She wasn’t straying too far, so Kalender brushed it off. Sherry bid her leave, complaining about a headache and an overdue bath before starting towards Harmony. Jyn took the liberty to sit on the edge of a pew, stretching out her legs across the aisle, sighing out the busy-ness of the day that’s just gone by. Kalender took the pew across from her, and they faced each other.

After three seconds of tense eye contact, they laughed. Minimine, standing on the aisle between them, looked between them with a quizzical look. Kalender remembered something important, though.

“Ah, by the way, Minimine—”

“Mimi.”

“I just can’t bring myself to use a cute nickname when I’m about to talk about something serious, okay?” Kalender chuckled.

Mimi pouted. “Okay…”

Guh. I’m taking damage. “A-anyway … do you have any idea how the curse’s weird custom stats work?”

“Hm? Do you mean like Gratitude?”

“Yeah—wait, how’d you know? I was supposed to tell you just now.”

“I’m a goddess.”

“Oh, okay.”

Minimine giggled. That explanation has served her well for millennia.

“I was—well, we’ve just been thinking,” Kalender continued, “doesn’t it work like, whatever feelings we share is what becomes the stat? So, I’ve been wondering why ours became Gratitude.”

Minimine tilted her head.

“Ah, not like I’m not grateful for some things. It’s just … it doesn’t feel like it’s what I really feel, so I’m surprised about the stat.”

“What do you feel?” Minimine asked.

Kalender scratched his cheek. He knew this question would come up, but he wished she’d asked a bit later. “I’m … not sure, really.” It was true. When he looked at Minimine, all he saw was an adorable child that he needed to protect, but beyond that? The one who truly opened her heart was Tak, not him.

“I understand,” Minimine said. “I don’t understand why I feel grateful, either.”

Kalender’s eyebrows perked up. “Really?”

Minimine began speaking with telepathy. “Beyond what you have done to bring me closer to my followers, and the forgiveness they then bestowed upon me, and the forgiveness thou bestowed upon mineself … I feel much—too much Gratitude to stem only from those things, and this, I am sure, as I remember clearly the instant before the System recognized my Gratitude—and it was all just much the same.”

Minimine fell into thought. Kalender took the time to watch her expressions switch and flinch as she sorted through too much information.

“Does that mean … it can be one-sided, and the stat will still change for it? So there’s just a threshold and it’ll pick up the first emotion that crosses it?” he finally asked, hoping to interrupt her spiralling mood.

She replied, still with telepathy, “That is close. Only the Harem God knows the details, but his description of it to me states only that the first emotion to surface foremost among the pair shall be recognized. I believe—yes, I believe that is very close.”

… So it could be done one-sidedly, then.

Kalender scratched his head. He wasn’t reciprocating her feelings, and it was an itch. Minimine was a good person. For someone like him to take up headspace, rent-free in her mind, while he couldn’t really do the same—it irked him.

Should he hug her right now? He looked up to her, and they met eyes. He showed her a smile before he looked down again.

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A shadow appeared in his vision. He looked up, and she was there, standing right in front of him. “Your soul is singing something I don’t like,” she said with her voice this time, arms wide. He relented, folding his arms around her as she did in turn.

“Do you think we can go outside?” Kalender asked.

“Should be able,” Minimine said. “Mind is clear.” —another thing to be thankful for.

***

Luceria cleared her throat.

Kalender and Minimine pulled away. The moment Minimine made eye contact with Luceria—and Anarel, and the blue-caped swordsman—she dug her face in her palms.

“I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I—” I was supposed to send them back!

Kalender’s hand on her head stopped her. She looked to him, and he offered her a smile. She nodded in thanks.

“Yes, Luceria?” she said in one quick breath.

“Right. We’ve … my comrades and I have decided on a few things. Everyone wants to retire, but, me, I have a request—”

Minimine raised a hand, and committed herself to telepathy once more. “I cannot, in good faith, allow you to suffer living another life of hardship after all you have done.”

“But, goddess—”

“This world’s problems are not yours. Not anymore,” Minimine said.

Luceria winced. She knew that. Still! “Kalender once told me that the world didn’t need Heroes like us anymore.”

Huh, I did? The man himself couldn’t remember it.

“I think … I want to see it, myself,” Luceria said, “the world that we left behind.”

“Truly?” Minimine asked. She peered into Luceria’s soul, examining it for what it was, really, the Hero was looking for.

“Truly.”

Minimine stared at Luceria for a long time. “Very well,” she said with her voice this time. “To the resurrection table. Lie down.”

Luceria bowed before walking to the resurrection table. She laid down, the seven crystal monoliths around her sparkling from the edges of her vision. Just lying here felt like it’d suck her soul back up to heaven.

Minimine stood at the head of the table. “Hero Luceria, you have chosen to be born anew, your soul affixed to this world, Gaia. What will be your new name?”

“Lilia,” she replied. Anarel gasped.

“Your most powerful memories shall be the cost of being reborn in the world of your origin. The sculpt of your soul, the scars etched on it, and the nodes that are yet to grow, shall all remain the same, and you shall remain you. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Would you like to try being a man this time? Or—”

“I-I’d like to keep being a woman.”

“Would you like to retain this body, or would you like some changes?”

“I will keep this body.”

“Finally, do you wish to return to infancy?”

“No.”

“Alright. Any last requests?”

“Uh…” Anarel slowly raised her hand. “I’d like to say a few things. To Luceria.”

Minimine nodded once. Anarel stood beside Luceria, hovering over her. She bent down, watching her eyes for a while, before planting a short kiss on her lips.

“If I meet your sister, I will make sure her soul knows that you are finding happiness.”

“Thank you,” Luceria said. “Thank you, Anarel.”

“Hey,” the blue-caped swordsman spoke this time. “We never talked much, but I hope you get what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you, Therisian. I hope you get Anarel in the next life.”

The swordsman choked. In the absolute last second, Luceria had found a way to deal an incredible amount of damage, and Anarel was giving him the ‘You never told me?’ treatment.

Luceria closed her eyes, and in the next that she opened them, there was a child holding her hand. She sat up. There were two … holy knights, she thought, in dirtied and well-worn armor. One of them, the woman, was wearing a frown. There were others, too, sitting on the pews. She recognized no one.

Whereas she once wore much the same armor as the holy knights, she now just wore a gray dress, at once undirtied … and uncertain.

“Where … where am I?” she asked.

“Call me Mimi,” Minimine said. “Do you know your name?”

“I’m … ah. Lilia.” She looked around again. “Where am I?”

“The temple,” Mimi replied, “near Harmony.”

Lilia let her legs down, feeling out the cold floor with her toes before she stood up. Like a fawn just newly born, she staggered slightly as she took her first steps. Like a fawn, she remembered just then how to walk, how to run, and her posture corrected itself as much. The haze in her mind was yet to go, but here, now, she was present.

The temple’s roof crossed like a tunnel of swords over her head, the light of the sunset beaming across them like rafters. Down the aisle, just past the onlookers on the pews, were opened double doors.

She ran. Kalender and Jyn watched her run by, alarm flashing across their faces. They looked to Minimine and the other Heroes, but they showed no hurry. They simply walked down the aisle, following in the footsteps of Luceria—Lilia, to the outside.

Kalender remembered the thing about Minimine needing to stay in a temple. He reached out and, reluctant to grab her arm, let it brush past his hand. Minimine looked to him.

“Can you go out?” Kalender asked.

“Come with me,” she said. Kalender looked to Jyn, who nodded. They stood up and followed.

Outside, Lilia was practically spinning on her heels, taking in the tall, swaying grass between the temples—Minimine’s was like a natural rock formation, but that one was a proper roof on top of proper columns, and that other one’s more like a castle!

Out in the horizon was the orange shade of her first town: Harmony. Its walls were fortress, and its outskirts, a field of pastel pinks and lavender hues. A castle dominated the center.

“Lilia?” Anarel said. Lilia faced her. It’s the lady holy knight. “This is where your adventure begins,” Anarel continued. “We hope you’ll like it here.”

“Thank … you?” Lilia replied. The lady knight was being strangely nice.

“Good luck out here,” the blue-caped swordsman said. He and the lady knight retreated off to the side. There wasn’t any room, anymore, for them in Lilia’s new life. Lilia didn’t pay them much attention, turning back to the view of Harmony. Kalender still had his eyes on the Heroes, however.

Minimine approached them. “I thank you for your time here,” she told them. They nodded. Just as the wind blew, they were gone. The other Heroes left behind in Clarinets, too, were gone. Minimine returned to Lilia’s side, but not without noticing Kalender’s shock. They met each other’s eyes, and behind Lilia’s back, Minimine showed him a smile that said, ‘Don’t worry. I reincarnated them together.’ Truly, Minimine is best wingman.

“I … want to go there,” Lilia said, pointing to the town.

“We can,” Mimi said.

“But …” Lilia looked to Kalender and Jyn.

“Oh! No, no, we’re just, uh, Mimi’s friends,” Kalender explained. “I’m Kalender, by the way.”

“Lilia,” she said, shaking hands with him.

“I am Knight Jyn,” the other said, shaking hands with her as well. “However, I am not so much a knight now, and more of Kalender’s warden.”

“Wait, I’m not that irresponsible!”

“After you almost converted Lens’s stove into a lightning stove?”

“That was one time, and she shouldn’t be pasting random magic circles on her appliances, anyway!”

They seemed like ordinary people, at least. They were talking about some strange things, though.

“Can we go there?” Lilia asked anyone willing to listen, with a voice uncharacteristically soft and innocent. Jyn and Kalender quieted down.

“We will,” Mimi said.

Jyn squinted at something in the grassy path between them and Harmony, however.

“Kalender,” she called.

“Yes?”

“We have collectively failed on supervising Page once again.”

There, just off the footpath, and in the tall grass, was a Librarian fighting off a slime.