Chapter 9

Dianna snorted, pulling away from the table with a roll of her eyes. She’d known Arthur was a bit—eccentric at times, known he liked to make jokes and, even found some of them funny, but he’d finally managed to dispel the illusion of sanity he so obviously carefully held.

“Yes, well, I suppose I expected as much, but maybe change isn't the right phrase here… remake? Yeah, I think that fits… Believe me or not, it's up to you, but I’d be entirely willing to convince you first-hand if you're interested.”

“Of course, I’d be interested in that sort of thing, Arthur!” She laughed, mood jovial despite herself. Evident comedian in his spare time or not, his antics weren't a dealbreaker for her; if anything, it was oddly refreshing. “But, that's the sort of thing in fantasies… not real! At least not for people like us. There are those that can make artificial cards that are weaker than soul cards without the ability to improve, or can even reset the power within one, take it and put it somewhere else without obliterating the soul itself, but making new ones? It's not possible unless you are secretly some arch magus, and even then, as I understand it, the process is significantly taxing.”

“I didn't say I made souls… I said I can change them, make a fireball an Ice Spear, a-an invisibility card, one that lets you fly, or, in the case of Tulla’s new tarot, a veracious grazer that lets you better understand other languages.”

“Show me.” Dianna countered, folding her arms as she did so. It wasn't lost where her mate’s gaze drifted for the shortest of moments, the glance at her chest causing her to scoff even as Arthur awkwardly cleared his throat, recovering his balance before he chose to explain himself.

“There's uhhh… ahem, limitations right now, largely I imagine due to how—weak my own soul is… when I do this, the card loses all its potency, returning to its initial rank, but, as I’ve discovered, it can level back up without issue… even if some of them are difficult…” This last part he spoke under his breath, almost as though he wanted to strangle something…

Dianna watched as Arthur stood, taking his chair and moving it around the table until he placed it directly next to her own, seating himself so close she could feel the warmth emanating from his side. Her tail quickly wrapped itself around him again, seemingly having a will of its own, though the man seemed to almost welcome it, smiling gently at her as he reached into the void, his hand disappearing from existence itself before returning with three cards in his hand. Ignoring that the little fucker apparently was in possession of some sort of storage card, a rarity in of itself that ratified her initial decision to maintain her wariness around him, she moved her focus instead to what he’d retrieved. Each, as Dianna saw, were, in fact, voracious grazers, one of the most common cards offered by killing the local horned rabbits that profelated like—well, rabbits… Again. Overlooking the fact that the man was clearly hoarding some rather potent cards, much as she’d warned Tavir and her sister when they first met, Dianna put that thought aside as she stared at the man with clear expectation.

“Not to sound like a two-bit street magician, but can you confirm that these are all… well, useless…?”

The demoness reached down, taking one of the tarots that let an individual eat and process all forms of plant life from the table, holding it in two long, slender fingers. She turned it over, inspecting it with a raised brow, finding little of interest beyond the fact it was indeed as Arthur had claimed. With his urging, she briefly looked at the others as well, nodding her head slightly as she placed the last one back down.

“All the same. All worthless for anything but livestock and babies. Not a one that's over iron, three.”

“Right, now, here's the thing, don't freak out when I do this, but I'm honestly not sure what it looks like to other people, so just be patient and I’ll be right back.”

Dianna was about to ask what the human was talking about before, with a single move, he swept up the middle card and, at the same moment, went deathly still. A moment of panic filled the woman as she shifted, peering down at Arthur, who looked to be hardly breathing… His body seeming to enter an almost—catatonic state, sitting there and utterly still in an almost eerie manner… She was about to try and ask what was happening before; with a small flash from the card in his fingers, Arthur drew a sudden breath, shaking himself as though waking up from a dream.

“Here, for you…”

She blinked, staring down at a soul-card that had—as the man had claimed, been somehow transformed… She cocked her head, taking it with a delicate touch as her gaze narrowed upon yet another translation tarot. She turned it over, then, over again, uncertain as to what to say… The card was indeed as he’d given her daughter. Exactly the same, in fact, allowing for a disparity vis a vis its rank and tier of which were one and iron. The base and lowest capacity for abilities that any card could possess. Still, she found herself somewhat flabbergasted, turning the card over, again and again as though, at some point, expecting it to return to its prior existence… Half anticipating this was all some—fanciful trick. Yet, when that didn't happen, the frown that formed on her lips was as genuine as her confusion.

When Dianna didn't immediately say anything, or even after those first confused moments that her mind sputtered to a halt, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, her mate began looking somewhat—nervous… Eventually breaking the silence himself to try and fill the void… “Do you… ugh, have any suggestions? Any ability you always wanted but could never find or have someone else trade for? Afford?”

“Giant magic sword.” She immediately stated, her words just—exploding without her conscious consent… truthfully, it was even a tad embarrassing as she considered just how—eager she’d sounded… her voice almost tripping over itself with growing excitement! This… this was not something she’d expected, and though part of her still didn't believe it was true, that this was even happening—well, some emotions in life were difficult to wrangle… Dainna watched as Arthur froze, his mouth opening a fraction, then closing before opening again, as though not sure he’d actually heard her correctly.

“Well…” he began, blowing out a cheek full of air. “I suppose we should begin with how large and how magic you want it…”

Arthur stood loosely, watching a true monster swing about another of its kind as though the woman held a foam bat… The blade was huge, comically impractical for any sort of human warfare. Looking like something belonging to a damned cartoon that ignored physics. It was taller than tall… taller than even the demon herself, and was wreathed in a purple-black flame that was his own addition to the whole affair, a bit of thematic flare if you will. Arthur naming the magic hellfire, just for earnest kicks, its colour matching the demon's eyes… At first, he hadn't thought what to think of the request. The earnest excitement and wide-eyed anticipation in her gaze catching him utterly flatfooted. Shed been breathtaking in that moment… more—real and alive than he’d seen her since they met—genuine even… Arthur managing to finally garner a glimpse behind the veil of the girl who still lived beneath the hard exterior. It had been such a sincere request, one that seemed to have come straight from her heart that the notion it might be wasteful when he could create a card to literally stop time—dissolved in his gut…

“Why not a giant magic sword?” He’d silently asked himself, trying to parse a reason he should—care if it seemed strange to him. After all, though swords were a touch archaic, he’d pretty much made one on the science-fiction scale of things pretty quickly, while Dianna had merely wanted the same on the magic side. So, he’d made her a giant, heavy and magic-powered weapon that was—a colossus among its kind… So large and thick that he’d taken one good look at it after its summoning and decided that there wasn't a chance in hell he was even lifting the damned thing…

Yet, he was wholly unprepared for just how… impressive Dianna’s strength actually was… watching in contemplative silence as the woman laughed with a deranged madness that was frankly—haunting to behold, swinging the enormous blade in a terribly lethal dance of certain death for anybody so foolish as to get near her… It was honestly sort of… doing it for him… Dianna’s hard-muscled body twisting and flexing with the grace of a ribbon dancer… those abs of hers so damned—defined and cut from marble, trickling with beading sweat that he was lost in her deeply attractive athleticism… He had to swallow just to regain his focus as he stared… At the very least, he was sure that she was—enjoying herself… while he… well, he got some very potent memories he’d be relying on rather soon in his near future—in a more private environment.

Evidently, the effectiveness of even low-rank cards, when not as ridiculous as his time-bending one, or pertaining to food apparently, were leaps and bounds above both in initial capacity. As it happened, a massive flaming blade of unbreakable magic metal wasn't at the same level of reality-breaking nonsense as some of his—other inventions… thus, it wasn't nearly so restrictive at a lower level. Why food was such a touchy subject for the universe, Arthur might never know. Yet, It gave him a rather needed mental reset of how he went about some of his ideas. Just because something wasn't all-powerful in concept didn't mean it wasn't useful in the right hands. Now he wondered what a translation card good for only the language the bal spoke would be like… Case in point to his musings being Dianna, who, had she wanted it, could have killed him with said comparatively simple sword, and there was little his telekinesis or time-stop ability could do to stop it…

“I always wanted something like this!” Dianna breathed, sweat seeming to spray from her flesh like mist as she stomped, abruptly arresting her movement as the huge weapon froze in mid-swing, her muscles bulging with the strain, an evil grin stretched across her cold features. “There was this girl back in the legions that I always used to spar with when I was younger, some noble bitch from a distinguished family that got put right into the officer's program after basic training. I hated her but could never beat her because she had this stupidly long and slender, unbreakable cutlass inherited from her grandfather! It wasn't fair, I was better than her but not by much, so it always came down to whose weapon lasted longer… It pissed me off that she always smirked after our fights, as though she’d never have lost to me even without her sky-damned artifact… Was hard enough to even get near the she-wolf with something half as long and twice as heavy, let alone what parrying did to my own weapons… that blade would rust them right from polished steel!”

Arthur… hadn't yet heard Dianna swear, and it was an odd thing… the woman was usually so composed and in control, angry as she may have been, but… this… this felt like she was finally opening up… “It does have a time limit, you know…” He reminded her, Dianna turning her gaze on him without her face falling even a fraction.

“I can fix that; all it needs is souls… Can you do healing magic?” She asked, letting the blade rest at her side and turning to walk towards Arthur and, looking entirely like an ancient Roman goddess of war… “What about physical modifications? Boosts to reflexes, strength and endurance?”

“I honestly don't think there's anything I can't do really do… Again, there are limitations, but I’ve only really seen them by way of…” Arthur's words trailed off as he looked down, noting how a familiar appendage had wrapped itself around his waist. Damn, how was he so bad with his situational awareness?

Within a heartbeat, Arthur was plucked off the ground, lifted bodily by the strength of her tail alone… Dianna swung him directly into her sweaty embrace, wings engulfing him, a tongue far longer and far thinner than any human’s pushing its way past his lips… His surprise was quickly overshadowed by a sudden passion that overwhelmed him, his arms pulling the demoness even tighter, his head spinning with the harsh but sweet scent of her perspiration that made his head whirl with a heady bliss. Her tongue crowded him, slithering around his own, dominating it before slipping down his throat as she took him, and he—admittedly, melted in her embrace… There was no real fighting back… the difference in their physical capabilities, even in this, was—significant. Arthur instead allowing himself to enjoy the experience for what it was while confident in the fact that no human would be able to do much better… When they parted, Arthur was left starstruck, stumbling back a step before regaining his balance as Dianna allowed him to return to his feet…

“I’ll make you more swords if it means we get to do that again…” He breathed, trying to catch his breath, her taste still filling his mouth as he felt—something slam into him… something that made his thoughts stutter and his gaze, which was filled with the massive demon—sparkle as though she really were some divine entity… Even her mouth had tasted good… despite all likely evidence to the contrary… Arthur feeling as though he’d just been—dosed by something as the demoness became divinity in his eyes, but loving the experience all the same…

Dianna only smirked, licking at her lips with a ravenous hunger that had him twitching between his legs. The smouldering desire in her eyes, the way she stepped forward, moving directly into his personal space until her bountiful chest all but squashed against his face was…

“Mom! Dad! What are you doing out here?”

The spell was, at that moment, broken as the pair turned as one, eyeing a quizzically curious Tulla who was busy flapping her way over.

“She’s already calling you dad.” Dianna breathed, her mood shifting as the breeze. Much as Arthur’s own quickly simmered. Children could have that effect, after all…

“Not surprising given how she reacted earlier…” Arthur stated, rising to his full height and—quickly adjusting himself to appear—somewhat decent…

“Whats with that giant sword? Did Dad make it?”

“He did, but that's a secret, dear. Do you understand?” Dianna commanded, immediately seeming to decide her mate's abilities needed to be covetously guarded.

Tulla quickly nodded her head, tightening her lips as she did so. Actually, she even seemed to bounce into what sort of looked like a parade rest, as though the tone in her mother’s voice activated her muscle memory, and she just defaulted… Even as she seemed to catch herself a moment later.

“So, you're saying that most races have a—specific card they were born with or a grouping of cards?” Arthur quired a time later after Dianna had dried herself off, and they once more sat around a growing fire, Tulla off—somewhere with her camera while her mother had begun trying to fill in some of his educational gaps.

“Yes. It's actually a big reason why most civilized races don't go about killing each other off just to harvest them for their souls. Not to say that sort of thing hasn't happened… but it's often-times easy enough to procure such a thing with money… if it's for some reason even wanted. Old age, accidents, deceased adventurers whose families inherit their souls… war, honestly, the market for such things is—comparatively light. Usually, other species can't use the species-specific cards of other races and, besides, their not always good. That's why the labyrinth is so popular, because it creates monsters that often times drop tarots that encompass a wide variety of their aspects. Cards like ice-spear, as you mentioned the cultist possessing, likely came from the second floor given its simplicity and, presumably, from a creature with some affinity towards the cold.”

“And, your people are all born with this—metamorphosis?”

“We are. It starts off pretty tame and doesn't really do anything… Those of us in our homeland who don't join the legions or delve the labyrinth oftentimes look not that differently than Tulla, only bigger…”

“So the armour, the sweeping horns, longer tail and bladed tip…”

“All from empowering our souls, yes. Most legionnaires find their capabilities capped out once their card reaches low-silver, somewhere around two to three stars, since it gets damned hard to improve them beyond that. We gain a significant boost to our physique and gain the ability to create natural armor far lighter and stronger than steel when our soul-card reaches the third tier, or silver, which is why most veterans are quite close in physical capabilities. How it all usually works is that a card's basic proficiency improves with its rank and then gains an additional or significantly empowered effect once breaking a threshold to a higher tier. The problem is that getting there is often strenuous and, more importantly, dangerous. You don't see that many people outside of those who've seen combat with gold tier soul-cards of any kind, nor silver really, which makes actually getting yourself there near impossible while fighting a shittier army, or anyone really outside of the labyrinth...”

“And you really can't just keep shovelling in weaker souls to get stronger?” Arthur asked, frowning as he did so while trying to work out how many bunnies he’d need to kill to get a card passed bronze. Probably a number that nobody was willing to bother testing…

“Oh, you can,” Dianna corrected, tapping her knee with idle interest, “it's just that what you gain is overtly negligible. Many theorize that the entire existence of the labyrinth serves to offer the bold and competent a means by which to continue improving themselves… Skill and talent will get you a long way as well, but, at a certain point someone with more raw power simply would overwhelm even a master of an art. The simple truth is that power through a potent soul card is simply exponential compared to mundane growth. Having both is obviously preferable as skill will always prevail when two people are physical equals or close to it but, that is a difficult thing to rely on when nobody really knows what another can do. The only real deviation from the rule is magic, but learning how to manipulate raw mana isn't as easy as it sounds. It's a lifetime of dedication to even reach where a lucky bumpkin might manage by stumbling upon the right card on the labyrinth's first floor… Not even accounting for the nightmare that would be finding a mentor outside of the Legions… However, it is a fact that the greatest magicians are all universally so in their own right. And they are powerful, Arthur, immensely so…”

“So I—assume,” he murmured, looking to the sky as he worked through what he wanted to say, “that the reason why it's so difficult to advance through the labyrinth is tied to the fact you can’t actually assume you'll ever get a card that you might really need?”

Dianna nodded, smiling brightly as she eyed her newly revised deck still held in one hand, now filled with custom soul cards that Arthur had made for her. “Makes surviving an utter slog, and actually trying to make progress feel even worse… You could be in a delving team for years and not see anything that fits you're style of combat… or you might get something but, your allies force you to sell it because everyone technically gets a cut of what drops under most short-term treaties. And trying to buy that perfect card?” She snorted, rolling her eyes as though reliving some ridiculous past moment in her life, “well that is oftentimes as infuriating as it is rare to even see… It's not like people don't know what they've found… So, the most people can hope for is selling cards to merchants with the intent to eventually buy what they need. However, the cost of these things can be—astronomical for the right ability…”

“So we're rich?”

“If we want to be, yes. But, whats the point of wealth when you yourself said you can make everything you want in the first place?” The demoness laughed, rubbing affectionately at Arthur's hand with her thumb, the texture of her flesh—oddly different from a human's, but strangely soft and pleasant…

“Bragging rights?” He shrugged, then shook his head with a smirk. “How does one actually get to the labyrinth in the first place?”

Dianna gave him a stern look, one which he quickly combatted with a roguish grin, feigning obvious innocence before the disapproval of his exquisite murder machine succubus. Yet, for all her attempts at seriousness, she relented a moment later, unable to quell the enthusiasm she harboured on her sleeve. Beginning with a sigh, she huffed her mate, smiling in turn. “Most major cities have a—portal. Mages make them, trained mages, that is. Largely, their a network of extensive runes and enchantments without getting into the deeper details but I—honestly, don't know much about them… Magic has never been my forte.”

“Are there… cards that can create portals?” Arthur asked, more to himself as his mind considered the possibility as a strangely absent concept from his basket of ideas formulated in his head. “N-not that I would try and go on my own, Dianna… I just… well, I like to think about these sorts of things!”

“I'm getting that…” She replied curtly, though the expression on her face was as loving as it was sweet.

“No way I'm not about to try!” He pulled one of the remaining voracious grazer cards from his storage, quickly imparting his idea upon it, only to emerge from the mist with an annoyed expression a handful of moments later, glaring at the tarot in his hand with clear dissatisfaction.

“Didn't work?” Dianna asked, leaning in to try and see what was in his hands, earnestly curious herself as she stared down at what her partner had created.

“It did, but not the way I wanted it to… It's a card that binds itself to you; I’ve been calling it attuned, but… It will disappear the moment you try to remove it, like, vanish, at least based on my experiments… not only that, but it takes an entire day to recharge. I can only guess that means if you use it, you've got to wait a day to come back again… and even then, it takes up an entire slot…”

“Pfft… that's it? That's what you're worried about?”

“Not a big deal?”

“Arthur… my dear Arthur… The nearest city with a portal from this village is Londi’s Landing, a three-day flight if you're pushing it to exhaustion with a near gold-rank metamorphosis, and, even then, the cost to simply use the city portal comes with ridiculous taxation. That isn't to say if they're even letting people use it yet; the war is still on, after all… Chances are it's locked down and strictly reserved for supply movements… And as to it taking a full slot,” Dianna added, voice returned to her usual and lazy drawl, “Most individuals who risk their lives down there never do so with decks filled with useful cards. Not unless they are at the height of their careers or extremely wealthy. For most, they build themselves up over decades of hard work! Taking odd souls in that might have some niche uses, but for the most part, it's typically only one or two of the things they start off with while relying on mundane implements to see them through the lower floors.

“So, this is... Good?”

“I can have it?” Dianna asked, ignoring his question entirely.

“For you—anything…”

She paused to look at him pointedly, considering Arthur for no small amount of time as her countenance grew serious. “You're not just saying that, are you? I can tell you know… You're looking at me like an entirely different person…”

Her purring words caused Arthur to grin, winking at the large demon who wasn't at all far off the mark. “Heh… What can I say?” Arthur replied, taking a moment to—fully appreciate the demoness’s thick legs beneath her tightly stretched leathers without reservation, his hand squeezing at the soft flesh with unyielding muscle just beneath. “I think you might just be my type…”

“Mom’s gone to the labyrinth!” Tulla helpfully exclaimed, grinning proudly as she sat in a camping chair, sipping on a dark and steamy liquid while around the fire, merrily humming to herself whilst roasting a giant marshmallow with a stick.

“I'm—sorry?”

“No, Tulla’s got it; Dianna went to the labyrinth. She volunteered to test a few things out for me… And she should be back in a—pfft… handful of days?”

“A handful of days?” Tavir asked, brow creasing with confusion. “When did she leave?”

“Yesterday! Dad figured out how to transport someone to the labyrinth from anywhere!”

A tiny spark of annoyance passed through Arthur’s mind as he looked down at Tulla with an unimpressed stare. The girl quickly realized her mistake, eyes shooting wide as she did so, but Arthur couldn't really be upset with her; after all, Tavir was family… And Dianna was gone. How else would they explain it to people?

“Y—you did what? And what's this father business?”

“Mommy claimed daddy and said he was hers now, so dad made her a bunch of new c—gadgets that will help her get stronger! She’s gone to test them while we figure out how to build our new house!”

Tavir looked about, ready to topple over, genuinely caught off guard as his wings drooped while trying to parse what was going on. Arthur handing the man a icy bottle of beer with a grin. “C'mon man, all the crazy stuff you've seen and that's what gets you?”

“The portal? No, honestly, I was going to get around to asking if such a thing was possible, but Dianna… Noooo… she’s all but eaten anyone that’s ever tried to get close to her and Tulla…”

“That's what happened to my first dad! Though, I never met him, Mom said she just got what she wanted and then took his soul.”

Arthur’s smile never shifted from his face, even as his hand began to slowly twitch subconsciously…

“Y-you’re not serious, right?”

“Deathly serious!” Tavir replied quickly. “Dianna is rather… well, how best to put it…”

“Violent?” Tulla asked with a sweet-as-honey smile.

“Yes dear… and rather good at what she does… Tulla’s father was a—well-known legionnaire with something of an—infamous reputation… big bastard… and a right arse of an old goat… Only Dianna knows the exact details of what happened there, but… she killed him, took his soul and—shortly thereafter, Tulla was born.”

“Best to keep her happy then?”

“Ohh yes… Not many around as strong as she is… and you say you have a way for her to get… stronger?”

“Mom says she’s going to get a lot stronger, like, thiiiiis much!” Tulla’s arms stretched wide. The girl nearly losing her treat, which made her quickly return both her hands to it.

“Did I do something… irresponsible?” Arthur asked the question directed as much to himself as it was to the old centurion.

“Aye. For everyone that isn't family!” Tavir barked, “Dianna likes few things in life more than a good scrap. She’s been moping about ever since the campaigns ended for us, and she’d realized taking care of Tulla came before her own dreams of power… If you've given her a solution for both, then I suspect its no wonder she scooped you up before anyone else could, foreigner or not… “

“Doesn't sound that bad really… hopefully… “

“If you say so, boy… if you say so… be sure to let me know how your hips fare after drags you to bed…” This time, there was a knowing gleam in the older man's eye. Tavir seemed to enjoy his distress while popping his beer.

They were both leaning over the table under Arthur’s gazebo when Tavir pulled out a series of charcoal sketches from a satchel. Several pages that were indeed paper, and of an impressively architectural format, all being spread over the white surface as they both stared down, beverages in hand. “These are the plans I’ve been drafting up for when the damned engineer-core makes their way out here… Their not much, not really anything beyond what I envisioned the layout to look like after surveying for the best locations to begin building but it should help you get an idea of what our homes really look like.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Fairly professional looking… And you made them yourself?”

“I am an educated man, Arthur! I know we're all mucking about in dirt over there, but hearing that tone is almost hurtful!”

“Ha! I was living in the wilderness for a handful of years before I got here. Trust me man, I get it.”

Tavir grinned, not actually looking upset in the least. Rather, he seemed to just be enjoying a little banter. “Honestly, though I like to march about and try to keep morale up, there really isn't much for us all to do in the village… No tools means everything’s makeshift… We’ve just been putting crappy bandaids on it all and pretending the place isn't a steaming pile of shite! This, however represents what I sincerely hope we could manage even a fraction of to return us to a modicum of civilization!”

Arthur nodded along, not really that surprised by what he saw on the various examples before him. The buildings themselves were rather tall centralized pillars serving as a sort of trunk for the installations, which were essentially layered platforms that each had a designated balcony, or, what it looked like to Arthur, a landing strip where the winged bal could easily access. Each level looked, in truth, only reachable by air, though Tavir assured him that stairways did indeed exist between them. Mainly for thralls, but also bal that hurt their wings. The floors, or levels, were all uniformly circular as well, with homes existing at the top of these spires while shops, plazas, inn’s and all other assorted commercialized and recreational zones were below. Reinforcing bridges spanned the gaps between differing pillars and helped join the different pods together for those without wings. The creative use of elevators and cranes strategically placed allowed potential industries to maneuver heavier goods within designated areas while pumps brought water to the city above. Practical? Hardly for humans… but for creatures that didn't need cars or really any other vehicle to travel, it all just made an insane amount of sense…

“What are these central pillars made from? Arthur asked, pointing to one with his finger. His eyes looking at the thing while he tried to determine how much strain the damned thing would be under…

“Stone usually, the engineer-corps employ a great number of geomancers to considerable effect. Afterwards, they are typically enchanted and warded by artificers and runic specialists, making them stronger than steel and for half the cost. Not much can bring a city spire down short of true engines of war or acts of fate that none could really defend against.”

“Their honestly beautiful designs… Nothing like the urban nightmares that my own people create… there's a sort of one with nature vibe about it all that just resonates…”

“An honorary bal, you are my boy… So, what do you think? I know it’s likely a stretch, but… Could we—ah… manage it with your help? I know you haven't told us everything… and I'm not looking to pry. But you clearly have some form of ability to construct intricate designs already, soo…”

“I—don't see why not.” Arthur breathed, sucking air through his teeth. “Won't be easy, and definitely won't be a one-man job…”

“My people will be willing to help in any way they can!” Tavir proclaimed with a grin. “Each and every one of them was under my own command, loyal to the end and not at all afraid of hard work. We lack tools, not spirit! We'd have begun rebuilding already if it wasn't for all the damned supply chain issues. We've been waiting for proper equipment since we got here. Sure, it wouldn't have been what you see here, but I’d wager it would be better than what we’ve got.”

Arthur smiled, patting the demon on the back as he straightened. “Then, come over here, I want to show you something…”

Arthur picked up the small handheld gadget from the table, the device, in all honesty, something he’d mocked up as a kind of gen-two model during his spare time earlier that day after last night, when Tulla had gone down to bed. When Tavir had come by to talk over a few things once Dianna had departed, their conversation had, inevitably, devolved into drunken ramblings over the possibility of Arthur providing the settlement with—useful tools. As it happened, the whereabouts of his sister-in-law hadn't even seemed to cross his mind as they’d jumped, hand in hand, right off the deep end into the theory of bal construction. The prior evening had been as fun, given his own worldly interests, as it had been filled with alcohol, but he hadn't forgotten his promise to the man about trying to work something out. And, what he’d come up with was the unwieldy and bulky orange thing he now held in his hand, which, he’d already taken an ernist crack at then forgotten in lieu of other events. With a large holographic display to engage its settings, a sort of—ovular shape and a vague resemblance to a ray gun, it was—ugly as it was amazing.

With a depression of a slim button where a trigger might otherwise be, the device shot out a brilliant beam of blue light, seeming to atomize the rocks and dirt as they passed them by, leaving clean, perfectly smooth surfaces wherever the device’s light touched. After a few moments, a hole three feet deep and three feet wide in the ground was formed, perfectly square in a most unnatural way. Arthur expanded the hologram, quickly using a finger to create a perfect sphere, then limiting the device's capacity to construct in a single resource, stone. He flipped a switch, pointing what he was naming the multi-tool at a patch of level enough dirt, holding the trigger down as the blue light emerged again, this time creating instead of destroying as it had previously done until a large round ball of stone was left behind. Arthur grinning to himself as Tavir seemed to watch the display with silent interest.

“It takes natural resources and puts them away in a pocket dimension,” Arthur explained to a quiet but wide-eyed Tavir. “Then, you can design what you want it to make, if it should weld with something else as you make it, or be freestanding. Then, you just hold the trigger, and the device does the rest. It's really only good for construction, anything you can make from dirt, wood and metal really, and it can't hold an endless supply of material… but Its gotta be bound to be better than using hammers and nails.”

“Your people have this—this—device?” Tavir whispered, looking at the ball of stone with disbelieving eyes before stooping down to grasp it, fingers straining against the solid rock as if testing its tenacity…

“No, we don't.” The older man looked at him, visibly confused, yet it was all Arthur could do but offer him a lazy shrug. “We have the—concept, honestly, but not the capability to do it. I'm blending the best of both worlds here, Tavir, and making things that probably don't exist…”

“Can it be used to kill people?”

“I’d really rather it not…”

“Good! Then keep it that way.” Tavir gruffed, swallowing before continuing. “I would also advise you to discover a way to keep track of these things if you're proposing to hand them out. I don't know what the imperium would do if it learned you could manufacture these… but I suspect it wouldn't be friendly about acquiring them… This—goes beyond simple artificer’s work lad… well beyond it…

“Their not perfect, you know, there is a learning curve that’s going to require a lot of effort to do anything worthwhile with them. More, if we decide to go through with the idea, then, you and I are going to have to have a conversation about my abilities. I don't think I can reasonably make many of these as I did the prototypes… too much effort and resources involved. But, suffice to say, Dianna already knows about—what I can do… However, she was quick to inform me that it was something that should stay secret outside of those who should be in the know. I, however am of the belief that—that concept is already not long for the world… With you, there’s going to be four people in the know. Cassie when she undoubtedly is informed, will make five. So, at this point, I’m more or less coming to terms that the whole village is going to know at—some point in the near future…

Tavir nodded his head, slowly meeting Arthur's meaningful gaze with solemn understanding. He might not know precisely what the younger man was talking about, but everyone knew how quickly secrets became stories with but the slightest slip of the tongue… Such things were inevitable. A kin to a nature's storm. No, sometimes the best way to deal with such things was to work on plans to mitigate the fallout or resulting chaos the best one could. And, the way Arthur saw it, pumping his new demon wife with as many powerful cards to act as his point guard was where he was hedging his bets.

Just then, Tulla bounced between the men, grinning at her uncle while wielding the original large orange multi-tool in her hand, a device Arthur had toyed with before their family dinner, one of the little projects that had lost out against his modular building blocks. Her tongue was sticking out the side of her mouth as she mocked intense concentration, her constructor’s light emanating the beginnings of a dirt sculpture. Within a minute, the girl was smiling proudly as a Tulla-sized two-legged sponge stood before them all… Its presence, build and overall design—surprisingly detailed in a way that Arthur hadn't managed to replicate himself…

“Dad’s been letting me play with it since he made it, I'm getting good…” She stated, words trailing towards something close to a whisper.

Arthur could only sigh; the sculpture was rather inspired, after all… “The—young…” he began, meeting Tavir’s gaze as the demon raised a brow at the construct, the statue looking as though carved by a proficient journeyman, alien as it's form was. “Are very often the most… adaptable when it comes to learning new things… How many people are in the village?”

“A little over a few dozen, including the family, but not any children too young to work. There will be more on their way over the next year or so, but given there isn't much to do out here… those are the number of workers we can bring to bear. It's mostly just early retirees for now, young or old, but eventually, more soldiers will, in theory, settle the lands as we have.”

“Well, I will leave it to your good discretion then… If you tell me fifty of these is what you can handle, then fifty is what you'll get. We can have a meeting to go over the exact number and how they work when you please, along with the—issues that surround them. Though, I’ll need a few days to get them all ready once you've figured out the numbers, at the earliest if I start working now.’

“I would appreciate it if you would, my boy… But so far as quantity goes, let us keep it to an even three dozen.” The man gave Arthur a meaningful look, conveying in no uncertain terms that he likely wanted to keep such power out of immature hands. After a short glance in Tulla’s direction, he eventually let out an exasperated sigh, clearly giving up on that particular line of reasoning shortly thereafter. Instead, he perked up after clearing his throat, smiling as he returned to the more militant tone he typically carried while conversing. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we are all sick of living in dirty hovels, so it will be all hands on deck, as it were.”

It was two days later before Tavir came to take Arthur to meet the townsfolk. Dianna was still absent… however, she had implied that she would be gone for a week… citing that she needed to—work off some stress… Arthur hadn't held it against her… Tulla was a wonderful apprentice who had a strangely beautiful mind for abstract theories utterly alien to her own world. In seemingly no time at all, she was already his better with the multi-tool, and, at this point, all but entertained herself once he’d given her a—special project to surprise her mother with. Now, however, Arthur stood beside Tavir and Cassie, Tulla smirking by his legs. Staring out into a small sea of unfamiliar faces that stared back with equal parts curiosity and expectation.

“This!” Tavir announced, placing his hand around Arthur's shoulder. “Is my new brother in law!” Several of the demons present began chuckling at the perceived joke, catcalls and dirty jokes resounding through their gathered numbers in a way that spoke of a brotherly and sisterly bond that had been forged through conflict and survival. Tavir grinned at the lot of them, giving Arthur a small but reassuring squeeze as he waited for them to calm down. Arthur heard no shortage of jokes at his expense, many that were directed at his size when compared to Dianna’s own… which, yeah, you know what, it was hilarious when standing next to her, but he supposed he’d be getting used to existence as a short-king after spending most of his days as a demi-giant. “I know! I know…” Tavir chuckled, waving the crowd to silence as it naturally petered out, “Yet, ridiculous as it sounds, Dianna has chosen her mate! And, it is this foreigner here, Arthur.”

Whether it was from his tone, or, possibly expression, the bal before them took pause before continuing their more disjointed laughter, seeming to hesitate as they gazed at him in particular with uncertain eyes…

“It’s… not a joke then?” A woman asked, cocking her head as though to get a better look at him. Her face—harsher than Dianna or her sisters, more scared and with a heavier brow that otherwise did not detract from fairly lovely features.

“No, Liasa, it's not. She’s quite smitten, in fact! The lad here was too dense to be afraid of her, and, now, she’s officially claimed him! Doesn't look like much, I admit, but he's got a large pair of steel ones on him of that there isn't a question in my mind!”

Silence filled the air for a time as a uniformly perplexed expression could be observed upon every demon's face. Each one of them appeared to struggle to figure out what it was that the demoness saw in a foreign species.

“It's not only his charm that one her over, but his mind as well.” Tavir continued, clearing his throat as he did so. “Arthur here hails from a people I’ve come to believe are even more advanced than our own—however, due to an unfortunate accident, he’s been transported here with no way back. I'm sure many of you have noticed the strange buildings and smells from his little home a kilometre or so away, as well as the results of our mutual business arrangements. Needless to say, he’s willing to ally with us and even killed a disgusting Tricen to save Tulla’s life! He’s the one who is largely responsible for us gaining a modicum of luxury in our lives again and, I say, one of our own now! And I expect you to treat him as such!”

Nods and shouts of approval were what followed Tavir’s announcement before the quite foreseeable questions began to fly.

“He’s the one responsible for the supply runs?”

“He is! And he’s promised to help us in a great many ways; one such example is our cooking situation! Arthur here is a master craftsman of a mage that can make low level soul-cards that can-be-improved! One such card he’s working on is a cooking card!”

Murmurs… several bewildered faces and even more skeptical ones whispering and yet trying to figure out if it was all a joke.

“He’s a master mage?”

“And more! Arthur is a man of many talents, but don't leave it to my word alone! I understand it's a lot to try and convince people, so we will present the young Tulla, who will show you what she’s managed to learn under his tutelage in a mere handful of weeks!”

All eyes dropped to the small girl who bravely took a step forwards, holding out her multi-tool as though it were divinely mandated to her. She moved towards an unused and abandoned house that had been too rundown to bother with, her device’s light digitizing the outer stone, the crowd watching in silence as an entire wall was removed in the span of a minute. She turned back around, grinning widely as she flipped the device's switch and activated the hollow; gasps of surprise sprang out as the intricate interface expanded to surround Tulla, who expertly navigated it to select one of the pre-saved sculptures she was so proud of. Smirking at the crowd, she aimed the tool beside her, holding it steady as the light printed out a life-sized replica of herself made of stone. One that was all too heroic, hands on her hips, wings flared, and a hoof resting upon the head of a deceased Tricen beneath her. It was, if nothing else, an effective display over the sponge that she’d initially desired to show off.

“Three weeks…” Tavir repeated calmly. “Three weeks, with this device and my niece has eclipsed all but the greatest sculptors of our imperium… three weeks…”

“Tavir, what in skies name is that thing?” A man asked, stepping forwards to get a better look at the orange device that Tulla had placed her arm into. The Mrk III of Arthur’s design a little less—retro than his initial vision or the second.

“It's what we're going to use to build ourselves a damned proper home before those inbred bastards in the engineering core even remember were out here two years from now!”

“And, what exactly does it do?”

“Takes resources from one place, stores them, then lets you design how it puts them back together. Easiest way to describe it, trust me on that one, you don't want to get into the science of it with Arthur if you're not ready to have your head spinning for hours.”

“Anyone who wants to get used to the process before we begin plans for construction just has to ask!” Arthur announced, stepping forward as he did so. Bravery spurred by Tavir’s buttering of the crowd for him. “Tavir’s shown me his drafted plans and I see to reason we can't get it done if we're all at it together. There is a skill to it; Tulla admittedly’s gotten better than even me… So, chances are she’ll be a better tutor… but there are limitations! At Tavir’s request, the device will not affect people! Nor will it work on flesh! Things like fur and feathers from already slain animals are okay, however. There’s a finite amount of storage as well, which can be observed. Once full, it will only create things. We are calling it the multi-tool, and I’ve promised Tavir that I’d create a soul card to summon this device for each of you who wishes to participate!”

“Just like that? Tavir, are you serious about this? You know how absurd this all is?”

“It's progress!” Tavir boomed, grinning ear to ear as his voice slammed all those before him with the weight of his authority. “You think money is anything to a man who can create wonders like this? No! Young Arthur is an inventor! He’s seen his new mate’s dire living conditions and chosen to help for nothing else than his capability to do so. So far as Im concerned, for what he’s already done so far, Arthur is family! And, if you let him, he will help us create a home on this worthless fucking rock that can even rival the capitol itself!”

Arthur watched as the small settlements citizens, Cassie and Tavir included, all spread out across the field, most with a multi-tool attached at their wrist. Everyone who was passed their late teens had chosen to participate in some way, with several of those slightly younger being told by parents to sit and watch for the time being while monitoring even younger children. The whole affair turned into a right little pissing match between the ex-soldiers who were trying to outdo each other with their newfound toys.

Tulla was standing at their head, offering words of encouragement and suggestions, people calling her over to ask questions and figure out where they were going wrong, much to the young girl's utter delight. She seemed to preen with all the attention, practically fluttering about the grasslands with an air of dignified importance that could give regular smugness an earnest run for its money… As promised, in addition to his inventions, Arthur also handed out fourteen cooking cards, giving one to Cassie, Tavir and Tulla as well, not having bothered to make the last one for Dianna as Arthur had a feeling it—wasn't up her alley. Which was perfectly alright with him; honestly, there was no greater infuriation he could suffer than having to share his kitchen with another person… He’d rather not cook a thing at that point if he must endure battling for space whilst making something.

The suspicion and well-contained hostility quickly evaporated to good cheer and comradery once the town realized how generous Arthur was being and that he was, in fact, not a charlatan who had somehow bewitched their old commander. Over the next several days, the town split into several organized parties, moving about their business with an industrious order that even Germans would have been proud of. They carried about their tasks with militant focus and determination, each group doing their part with outright enthusiasm and, in many cases, almost savage competitiveness. He suspected that he, too, would act in much the same manner with a rapidly elating moot that had overtaken the dreary inhabitants… Not to mention the promise of once more living in a real home. There were problems, of course, issues mainly stemming from his ability to actually manufacture anything of such complexity within an even modest amount of time. S-sadly, he’d needed to sacrifice all his budding collection of tools, his energy blade, hell, even the damned speakers just to get the second prototype to manifest! And then, both older ones to make the Mrk-III. Leaving only his drones for defence. On its own, and with Arthur and Tulla tossing grass at the thing like crazy people, the measured rate at which one such device pulled in the ambient magic felt as though it might take entire months to complete any additionals using his bullshit transmutation…

That was when he’d had the genius idea to simply make a soul-card for it. Still, even that wasn't without flaws. Though the card had taken on the original's abilities with near perfection, it did so with staggering limitations by way of capacity and finite detail. This, of course, could be subverted through the simple act of upgrading the card, but it did serve to compound the village's problems rather than solve them outright. Still, once the concept in itself was understood, everyone universally agreed it was brilliant and more than workable despite any hiccups along the way—besides, there were already plans in the works to solve the dilemma of card rank.

“Love these little things, Art!” Kilk, a wirey, red-haired and bright-eyed bal exclaimed, patting Arthur on the shoulder as he moved beside him, the man activating the hologram as it bloomed around them, expanding and offering a life-sized canvas for the design team to work with. “Going to design me a proper bed on the off hours, fire-goose down feathers, ice-worm silk sheets, the whole package! Bunch of us heading into the labyrinth to go hunting for some right and proper materials to make it happen!”

“Bring me back enough to make my own? I’ve been—banned from the labyrinth,” Arthur admitted, wincing slightly even as he said it, “and I'm not sure I want to test the woman who will enforce it…”

“Ha! No, you really don't, mate… Don't worry, Liasa, Barthamalu, Jade and I have your back, brother-man! You'll need something especially soft, else Dianna’s liable to break you…”

“I've been… told that by a frankly disturbing amount of people…” Arthur commented, tongue clicking with masked concern. “M-man to man, is it something I actually have to worry about?”

Kilk only grinned at him, an almost pitying look offered by his mate Jade, who appeared as though she might be delivering him an actual prayer.

“Seriously though,” he chuckled nervously, “should I be trying to get ahold of some body-enhancing cards or something?”

“Honestly?” Kilk asked, his easy smile falling away. “That, and, maybe, remind her to be—gentle…”

Jade couldn't help it; she snorted, earning several chuckles from those around them.

“You know, It's really hard to know if everyone's just messing with me or not…”

“Heard she almost killed you when you first met her, even after saving Tulla,” Liasa commented, passing their small group by with a basket of food in her arms.

“Bal fuck like we fight Arthur were a passionate and depraved people… Can't ever say you're not a brave bastard, but you're in for a world of pain if you think it's going to be all lovey-dovey.”

“Don't let them scare you, Art…” Jade cued, her palm rubbing at her man’s rear, “We women can speak for ourselves when we say lovey-dovey is as good as wrestling or venom-play.”

“Uhh… venom-play?”

"Oh! That’s a fun one!” Kilk laughed, though he earned himself a sharp look from his wife, who answered the question while the younger man couldn't stop himself from laughing.

“Tips of our tails have venom, as do the fangs if you develop the metamorphosis far enough. Shows up around the later stages of bronze if you get there, which Dianna has. We can dilute it ourselves so it's not much more than a mild paralysis, can make things fun when it all gets a bit rough, but also can—kill if necessary… though that's usually just in a fight…”

“Whoever gets bit enough loses and stays on the bottom.” Barthalmu offered, his cheery and upbeat voice resounding through the air as he lazily shrugged at Arthur while fussing with his pack.

Wrapping her wing around her man, Jade, a slightly larger specimen than her own husband, added, “Kilk doesn't win that much, in case you were wondering.”

“I win plenty!” The man scoffed, raising his chin in defiance of her claim. “I just know it means more to you, so I roll over and show my belly.”

Liasa, the shortest of the group and also the oldest, though not by any significant margin, rolled her eyes, glaring at her fellow bal with fake annoyance. “Honestly, Arthur, you don't need to listen to what they're saying. Anyone as good as Dianna knows their own strength and how to regulate it; you won't be in any real danger so long as your honest with what you can do.”

“And what can you do?” A nearby man asked, Arthur recognizing him as Zog, a massive bal who was nearly twice the width of any other.

“My people are more skilled than brutishly strong for sure… Hurts the pride to admit it, but unarmed, Dianna was under the impression that Tulla might even get the better of me…”

“That weak?” Liasa grimaced, “Really?”

“I mean, the girl is a monster…” Kilk murmured, though it sounded more like he were trying to reassure his new alien friend.

Arthur only shrugged. “Doesn't mean we're not dangerous in our own right; Dianna and I almost killed each other before we sort of started—hitting it off…”

“Sounds like a love story if I’ve ever heard of one…” Kilk chimed right back, his wide grin displaying his impressively sharp teeth. “Many a bal surprise has been born from the very circumstance you described… Nothing like a little danger to get the old heart racing, if you know what I mean!”

Changing the subject, Arthur looked around, noting that the four demons that were intending to challenge the labyrinth who had all gathered together… Jade and Kilk, two of Tavir’s best soldiers, despite their age, would be, once more, leading the expedition. After that, it was Barthalamu and Liasa, neither of which were involved with each other but, as all the soldiers seemed to be, were bonded all the same… “You lot sure that only taking two portal cards is a good idea?”

Liasa nodded her head fervently, freely speaking for the rest of her group with an open smile. “Two’s already pushing the bounds of caution and paranoia. Everything we're looking for is on the first two floors anyway. Not much there that will surprise any of us, and we’ll make sure it isn't advertised what we're about with the multi’s. Nobody will learn our secrets, even if we have to die protecting them.”

“Or silence somebody who gets too close…” Jade whispered, those around her taking on hardened expressions at her words, the atmosphere around the small group growing—tense as Arthur nodded his head…

“I told you the younger pups of my command would jump at the opportunity to freely visit the labyrinth!” A booming and spirited voice rang out from behind, Arthur turning to eye an approaching Tavir, who waved when seen. Now that the settlement had some real life flowing through it, the man practically sparkled wherever he went.

“Damned right we are! Chance to get a real home again or not, I never thought life after the legions would be so—boring… I miss the fighting…” Kilk laughed, good humour refilling the young soldier's demeanour.

“Here-here!” Tavir cheered, “Just remember, kids, your not going down there for your own sakes alone, your going down so your comrades can finally have a damned comfortable place to rest again! When all the injured of the century can finally make the journey here, I want to be sure they don't languish in misery as we’ve had to endure. You have the list?” All of them nodded their heads, Jade reaching into her pack to retrieve a scroll with an itemized waterfall of goods Tavir wanted them to procure, along with the priority each one held in his mind. “Don't forget.” He added a moment later with a prideful gleam in his eye. “No risks, no chances, calm and cool. Do what you will with one card in five that you find, but keep the rest of them for your fellows back home. They'll be working as hard as you are, and we need these multi-tools more powerful than they already are if were to do much more than start stockpiling resources!”

The group saluted Tavir, who, in turn, nodded his dismissal, none of them technically still in the legions, but, all finding old habits to die hard.

“How many men do centurions have in their command at full strength?” Arthur asked once the small squadron had departed, the question having been rattling around in his head for some time now.

“Century has a hundred men. Ninety fighting men and women and ten officers, the centurion included. Each such force also has two more like it as Auxiliaries that perform all manner of tasks from triage, subterfuge, scouting and accounting, among many other duties. If you're wondering why we're so few, then it's because we're all that's left… or, were half of what's left.” The old bal sighed, straightening his spine, even as his eyes grew distant with memories. “Tricen put up a real show at their capital, but we raised it to the fucking ground all the same. I swear, we slaughtered ten for every soldier that was wounded… The rest of my command are recovering injured that couldn't yet settle without proper medical care; most will likely make the journey here once they've recovered, but I won't hold it against them if they don't, life as it so often does, changes one's plans on its whims… Thankfully, command saw fit to reward those who took the blighted city with honourable discharges for all; war’s supposedly nearly over anyways, so it's not like it wasn't already on the horizon.”

“So, this land then… Is it yours personally or shared with your men?”

“Shared! I’ve heard of the concept of individual land ownership, but in the imperium, the state is who truly owns the ground, and its people have a right to live where they choose to. It's more apt to say that I was appointed a sort of—governorship of this region, for whatever it's worth as it is, but if you're worried about taxes, then rest assured, our government does not penny-pinch its citizens before they are established. We won't owe a thing on what we produce or possess until a year’s time after the imperial engineers build a proper roadway out here and discover their work to construct us a real settlement is already done!”

“Are there… internal wars among your kind, between different governed states?”

“Yes,” Tavir murmured, tone taking on a darker cast, “it happens, but such things must be conducted within the bounds of imperial law! It's oftentimes a final resort when differences, for whatever reason, simply cannot be overcome, and both populous mutually agree to sort it out on the field of battle… We are not above our own instances of internal slaughter Arthur, but neither are we beyond good sense. Normally, before things get to that point, the people will elect a champion to battle upon their behalf in such matter, the dual deciding the winner of any given disagreement.”

“That sort of policy has been explored quite a bit in my homeland, but never really enacted on a large enough scale… Is it effective at keeping internal conflict to a minimum?”

“Depends who you ask,” Tavir replied with a crooked grin. “Politics, my dear boy… politics… If you invite any rational man or woman, they'll tell you yes, it does work, which is why we only have a small handful of internal wars a year! But, if you ask those who would like nothing more than to swing their territory's weight about after they've absorbed a few states, then the answer changes… Governors were never meant to be able to manage more than a single city, but, as of late, there have been some radical policy alterations from the homeland that, for the past few years, have allowed settlements to expand beyond their traditional borders…”

“It sounds as if someone is trying to create a monarchy… or at least a ruling caste of nobles and oligarchs…”

The old soldier eyed him sideways, taking his measure before nodding his agreement. “You're not wrong; that's exactly the sentiment that many of my countrymen feel. It's why, Arthur, I’ve taken so quickly to your radical inventions. Truly, I fear for the longevity of the imperium as she currently stands, but I lack the power nor influence to do else but watch it all unravel… I love her to death, but we're getting large Arthur—some say too large… And, there's has been a stint of favouritism through our upper ranks that reeks of corruption and nepotism. Though I hate to speak ill will of the legions, as it stands, I can't help but think if a veteran general were still leading our efforts on this world, it would have already been properly conquered.”

“Greed… It's been the killer of countless empires in my lands… Soft men who don't know what it's like to do without in life, making policy without really knowing or understanding what life is like below their lofty towers in the clouds.”

“Well said, lad, well said. Truly, I couldn't agree more. However, at least for now, all I can do is do my best to make sure those I love are prepared for what's to come… for better or worse.”

Arthur nodded at that, the conversation slipping to companionable silence for a time as both men, one human and one bal, watched as the villagers muddled through their work, each with a contemplative expression formed on their faces. Eventually, duty called one of them away while responsibility did the other… Tulla might have had the day off of her studies as her primary tutor, Cassie, had been busy with the multi-tool, yet Arthur felt he had a certain—obligation towards the young girl that extended beyond the bounds of merely letting her play as she so wished. If he was going to be a father, which was admittedly strange given he was only in his mid-twenties, edge of the spectrum or not, Arthur intended to ensure that Tulla exercised the rather bright intelligence he knew watched behind her eyes. He had plans, such glorious plans, and, best of all for the both of them, he needn't be burdened by the restrictions of physics nor regulations towards safety to—teach his daughter how fun learning could really be.