Chapter 10

Tulla sat at the table with her father, frowning. This wasn't because she’d been forced into a task that wasn't interesting to her—in fact, it was actually quite the opposite, which was why she was staring at Arthur with a curious set of emotions. When he’d said he wanted to take part in her studies, Tulla had assumed said time spent with him would be as much of a slog as it was with her aunt… Endless repetition, boring chalkboard lessons, Cassandra’s monotonous and clinical explanations all but causing her to doze off… She’d, of course, agreed to sit down with Arthur and—endure whatever she’d assumed he and her aunt had cooked up for her mainly because she didn't want him to think her—difficult… She knew she had something of a reputation, admittedly earned, and could get a little snarly from time to time when people tried forcing her to sit and learn, yet part of her desperately wanted the strange man to like her… She’d never had a father figure before, not really… sure, there was her uncle and the many men in the village, but there had been none who had engaged her quite like her new dad did. None who treated her as though she were more than just a stupid little kid… She could tell he knew she was smart, and while others might have suspected the same or knew so, that fact was rarely reflected in how she was treated…

Tulla had never fit in with children of her own age… she was larger, stronger, faster and yes, quicker in a more cognitive sense… that had left her in a strange scenario where she’d loathed others of her age but had never been taken seriously enough to be tolerated by her seniors… Even if she could knock most teenagers on their asses, they only ever saw her as the little gremlin. Now, however, the young girl felt flabbergasted as she stared at the squishy and tanned man who sat across from her with an almost—blank expression.

“Do you… not know? It's okay if you don't, we can—”

“The answer is thirty-four.” Tulla interrupted, shaking herself from a small fit of surprise before Arthur smiled at her, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

“Alright, nine times eight?”

“Seventy-two.”

“Twenty-one divided by three.?"

“Seven,” Tulla answered, crossing her arms and lifting her chin as she stared down at her father’s question with contemptuous confidence.

“Alright, you're quick, but I had a feeling you’d be. Okay, let's get a little tougher. Fourteen divided by four.”

Tulla—blinked for a moment, mind whirling as she broke the problem down in her head. Her brow crinkled for a second or two in thought, but shortly after, she solved it, face brightening in triumph! “Three and a half.”

“Very good… very good. For your age, you’re nailing math… Awesome, so you've got the basics of most of what I think we might deal with… cha-cha-cha… what about fractions? You know what one-eighth is?”

“Half a quarter.”

“Perfect. I hereby proclaim you smart enough to pass remedial high school math in my homeland, which, so far as I'm concerned, means you'll probably grasp enough of what I'm going to start messing with to not get either of us destroyed.”

That was an interesting way to—phrase things… Tulla had heard her father talk about his people from time to time, and, as she understood it, this high school was a tier of formal education that was a prerequisite for more education. That was a depressing thought in of itself… yet the allure that what her father intended to show her was dangerous and that he was worried she might cause him or herself harm in its ongoings was—delightfully intriguing… This was why she loved her new dad; without a doubt, he had something ambitious up his sleeve… In response to his compliment, she couldn't help but lean herself in just a little closer to him, eyes narrowing on his face as she offered him her complete attention.

Arthur smiled at her clear interest, chuckling slightly as he leaned back in his chair, taking on a thoughtful countenance as he began to ramble aloud as though also speaking to himself. “With your mother gone and your aunt and uncle handling the construction now that everyone's gotten into the flow of things, I intend to start working on some—pet projects I’ve had rattling around in my head for a while. Some not entirely unrelated to you're mom's special gift.”

Tulla nodded, already following along with his intentions, if not the reason behind the brief quizzing. She looked—eager, expectant and excited, practically vibrating in her seat as her gaze remained fixated on his person.

“Honestly,” He continued, smiling at her clear devotion to keeping herself focused as he spoke, “I didn't expect everyone to take to the multi’s as quickly as they did, but I have lost three days since work started and, I sort of wanted to get this all finished up before Dianna got back… So, I am commandeering you as my assistant until she returns. Don't worry, I’ll talk to Cassandra about your lessons… If you've got fractions, multiplication and division down, I doubt anything else she’s got for you over the next four days will be that important…”

“She’s been teaching me magic,” Tulla complained, her tone simultaneously exasperated and despairing… and all of it seemingly despite the fact that what she’d just said wasn't something that anyone in their right mind wouldn’t be ecstatic over!

Her father seemed to lose himself for a moment, just—staring at her as though she were some strange pair of eyes in the darkness he didn't know what to make of before opening his mouth with a decidedly confused drawl to his words. “You’re—displeased that she’s teaching you—actual magic?”

Tulla huffed, folding her arms with a scowl in response… “It's not real magic; I'm stuck learning the basics, and it's so slow! I have to do shaping exercises over and over again, day after day! All I do is change a handful of rocks into the shape of cubes and then triangles, then spheres! I do that for three hours, then start doing the same with water, then fire… Yes, at first I thought it was really cool, but I’ve been learning the same exercises for months! Do you even know how boring that is?”

To her immense suspicion, her father merely nodded, not giving his thoughts away. Sadly, neither did he look at all as though he were surprised, or sympathetic to her plight. Still, he didn't ask her to start moulding rocks like her aunt so often did; thankfully, instead, he asked her another question, and, one that caught her slightly by surprise.

“What about runecrafting? Transmutation? summoning?”

Again, Tulla’s eyes narrowed, though she didn't feel the need to lie to Arthur or stretch the truth of her knowledge as though to prove herself… she already knew he wasn't somebody she could so easily fool. Sneak up on, sure! Convince with a little bit of glittering eyes and a pout, maybe, but not when it came to things he might know more about than she did herself… “Auntie—Cass might know about rune crafting, and I know she can transmute but… she hasn't taught me…”

“Why not?”

Why not? Why not! Tulla had been asking that exact same question for months! Why not teach her something other than shaping exercises? Why not let her try? And, like that, the young bal was sold. She knew Arthur had a scheme when that twinkle in his gaze sparkled like the stars he’d shown her from his world…

“Do you know what cheating is, Tulla?” Arthur continued on a moment later after he’d realized she hadn't had a response for him, standing up and clasping both hands behind his back as he took on a—professorly tone.

“Cheating is—doing something wrong to get ahead, right?”

“Yes, more or less, though, I want to impart a little bit of wisdom on you that I’ve learned and wish I’d been told when I was your age. Cheating is only frowned upon because those who do it the real cheaters who are at the very top, don't want everyone else below them to do as they do. Where I come from, people who cheat are almost always universally the individuals with the most money, the most power… They own the most things, they live the fancies lives, and they make the rules that they themselves know how to subvert to ensure that they remain at the top of the pecking order. Cheating isn't necessarily a bad thing, though; it can get a little morally ambiguous in certain regards. You grew up around an army, right? Let me ask you this: if you knew your mom was going into battle, how many soldiers would you want on her side? The same amount as the people she’s going to fight? Or triple their number?”

“That's dumb.” Tulla couldn't help but blurt, scowling at her father as she answered with earnest truth. “Obviously, more soldiers are better.”

“Not a fair way to do things, though, wouldn't you agree?”

“War’s not supposed to be fair; uncle Tavir says that all the time. The whole point is to make it as unfair for your enemies as possible, isn't it?”

“Well, you're not wrong.” Arthur smiled, though it was a—sparing thing. “War isn't fair, and neither is life. But, the point I'm trying to make, Tulla, is that while cheating can be a good thing, it is something that needs to be done so in moderation, especially when it's conducted on a more individualised level. Cheating others, for example, is dangerous. If a merchant is disingenuous with his prices, he risks his customers leaving him for better prospects or, possibly worse, if those he wronged take a more personal offence to his duplicity. If a kingdom invades another without warning, they are subject not only to the consequences of their actions should their invasion be repulsed but, also of their peers who might take note of their schemes. At that point, the odds that they will treat the kingdom in question with any sense of honour dissipates rather entirely, leaving them open and vulnerable. Cheating is a tool. One to be wielded with care and caution. It can backfire easily as it can succeed, and though it is quite effective as a rule, it can have dire consequences that very seldom can be easily mitigated. The point I am trying to make is that cheating, effective as it is, can't always replace what it aims to circumvent, but it can be a stepping stool towards achieving it. Caution and care, Tulla. Please, I want you to remember those two words while we cheat our way through learning magic—together.”

Tulla was uncertain as her father's gaze intensified on her, the young girl feeling as though his eyes carried with them a weight and consequence that pushed her deeper into the chair, crushing any sense of aloof arrogance she might have held towards the day and, replacing it with a sombre and reserved caution. Ultimately, she nodded, sensing his warning for what it was, and, knowing what she did about her dad, deciding to take it all to heart… She’d seen him—do things that she knew wasn't—normal… He broke the laws of magic with impunity on a near daily basis; he—cheated, just as he’d explained, made things that not only shouldn't exist but—couldn't by more academic understandings, and all of this while admitting he knew next to nothing about the arcane… Tulla didn't know what it was they were about to—circumvent as he’d explained it, but for Arthur to seem so serious about breaking the rules, Tulla knew this wasn't going to be a game…

Then, Arthur moved around the table, walking to her side before kneeling down until they were eye to eye. He held her gaze for several seconds, bright blue orbs sparkling amidst a sea of white, watching her, considering her… “I'm going to need you to also promise you won't tell anyone about this but your mother. Not Tavir, not Cassie, nobody from the village… only your mom, no slip-ups like the portal… Honestly, I think you can handle this, but I'm not ready for it to go further than it being our secret. Can I count on you?”

Tulla didn't need to answer with words, she was already nodding her head emphatically the moment after her father had finished speaking. Whatever it was, she was ready. Nobody had ever given her this much responsibility, the weight of Arthur's secret feeling like an anvil atop her nerves as the gravitas of the mood stole away any sense of childish whimsy she might have held. Her father merely smiled, standing back up before gesturing to the table, Tulla following his outstretched hand as she watched something—appear in the air. It was dark, a void-like sphere of absolute nothingness that penetrated the world for the briefest of moments as it grew larger before her; then, it was gone, blinking out so quickly that Tulla couldn't have been certain it was ever there… Yet, in its place, had appeared a—book of truly colossal proportions. The table seemed to creek under the strain of its weight, the cover thick and of heavy leather, pages old and weathered, stacked so high within that it had to be as tall as both of her fists! She’d never seen a book so—big before! The rectangle of its shape was utterly absurd so that each page was probably thrice bigger than one of Arthur’s dinner plates…

She looked on in awe, simply staring at the strange tomb with an almost reverent silence… Books were expensive things, delicate and rare outside of cities… Though not irregular, paper was often considered too extravagant a commodity to waste where scrolls or chalk performed adequately enough, and those examples she had seen weren't anything like what her father had just—summoned into existence…

“Is it a book on magic?” She asked, not taking her eyes off the mystifying object, wanting to so desperately touch it, but afraid that she’d somehow ruin it…”

“It's a book about runecrafting, more specifically, one that will teach you runecrafting.”

“Oh…” The young girl replied, a tinge of despair entering her voice to mix with the excitement and amazement. “This will—take a long time to read together… won't it?”

“Ha! I bet it would! But, Tulla, what if I told you I already know everything in that book, even mastered it! And all in a single afternoon.”

“I’d say you were lying.” Tulla deadpanned, giving her dad a flat look that let him know exactly how she felt about his joke.

“Yes, well, maybe if we did things the normal way for most people, but remember, I told you we were going to cheat. Tell me, have you ever heard of something called a skill book?”

“Nooooo…” Tulla drawled, furrowing her brow at the odd combination of words. Skills had absolutely nothing to do with books… or, so she’d always assumed… After all, books were knowledge in the written form; they recorded things and taught you things, while skills were—skills. They were things that people—developed, learned yes, but not from paper and ink… The more she thought on it, the less the phrase made sense in her mind until she’d nearly made herself cross-eyed from the strain of it…

“I know, and I doubted it was something anyone from this world had heard of… but maybe it's just better if we move right along. Now, Tulla, do you trust me?”

She—nodded, though the action was hesitant… Under more normalized circumstances, she did… He had saved her life after all, fed her, bathed her, been a caregiver for her, no matter how short that span may have been… yet, this was a little different… and she could sense it. All the same, resolve set into her gaze as she reassured herself that Arthur wouldn't do her wrong… So, she nodded again when he seemed unconvinced, this time allowing her conviction to bleed through her expression until his own head bobbed with slow acceptance.

“Alright… I am glad that you seem to be taking this seriously. It's an encouraging thing to see.” Her father took a breath, standing back up and placing a hand on the table right near the tomb, his expression—complicated as he seemed to consider his words. “I—won't lie to you, Tulla, when I did this, comfortable wouldn't have been the word I’d use to describe the experience… It's like—having your mind forcefully invaded with knowledge that just crams itself inside… I wouldn't call it painful per se, but I want you to understand what will likely be coming so it won't surprise you. Panic is the enemy of rational sense and success. Remember, I will be with you the whole time, right here…” He looked at her hard, watching her thoughts as they altered her expression, analyzing her as though trying to decide if he’d even let her continue…

Tulla wasn't to be intimidated. She’d had a rough childhood; even she knew that. Seldom as it was, when her family spoke of the days spent back in lavish cities, running around cobbled streets surrounded by towering walls and patrolling guardsmen, she’d often wondered how other children would even know how to survive once they grew up. Being raised in the legions was a harsh life. One filled with danger and ever-encroaching peril. No, she wasn't scared! She’d faced the Tricen! She’d held a spear in both hands and drilled until she could barely stand… Tulla wasn't a child anymore; she hadn't been since her survival training had started. Compared to being left in the wild for several days with nothing but slim rations, a sturdy spear and a camping set, a book wasn't nearly so intimidating.

Whatever it was that her father saw on her face while she’d delved into memory, it had galvanized his own decision, and his lips shifted into that of a gentle grin, a hand reaching out to ruffle her hair as he said, “Right, knew you’d be ready for it kiddo. Now, the how is simple. All you need to do is place your hand on the first page, palm flat, and wait; you'll know when it happens… but, remember, don't lift your hand, whatever you do or we're going to have to wait another day to try this again.”

Tulla merely set her jaw with determination, eyes hardening with confidence as she boldly flipped open the massive tomb’s cover and only hesitating for the briefest of moments, pressed her hand onto the first page.

For the first few seconds, Tulla sat there, expectant, waiting for the influx her father had described, then frowned when nothing happened… She was about to ask Arthur if she was doing it right when it hit her… An immensity of pressure, not the sort to cause migraines or a bleeding nose, but… well, memories weren't quite the way she’d describe it… The sensation was—odd, not painful, but neither was it—pleasant. Something was forcing its way into her thoughts, muddling her consciousness as she felt herself fade for a heartbeat, the world growing dark at the edges of her gaze.

It had a sort of—buoyancy about it, though, more akin to her being the water while the weird thoughts that weren't quite her own were pushed into a lake that had to make room for more information than was already there. Yet, before long, the haze of befuddling confusion faded, and Tulla was left dumbstruck, sitting there, hand still on the page, but, as the seconds passed and she regained the faculties of her mind, the young girl realized she—understood! She looked down, pulling her hand away from the book with slow reverence as it seemed to—dissipate into motes of brilliant light, her eyes blinking away the odd sensations as the largest grin she’d ever felt on her face bloomed into existence!

It was nearly dark when Arthur stood from where he’d been bent over double, his back aching some from being hunched, watching as Tulla applied the finishing touches to the—prototype of his—no, their little project. Sure enough, she had it, and even now, the bubbles looked—inviting. His back popped a few satisfying times as he stretched, more than pleased with their progress through the day, but chiding himself slightly as he peered up towards the sky, noting how the clouds sat amidst a sea of dissipating orange… They’d been at it for hours, and the time had slipped by at a considerable pace…

“We're going to need the original multi for the structure… personally, I'm partial to marble myself, and the whole Grecko-Roman vibe sort of—fits with the Imperium thing…”

“What’s a Greko-Roman?” Tulla inquired, pushing herself back from kneeling over the network and sitting back on her bottom, looking up at Arthur with a questioning brow.

“Two very old cultures of my people. Both were quite large for their time and powerful. Coincidently, the translation card uses the same words for their ancient armed forces and your own, so the crossover was easy to make in my mind. But don't sweat it on the details; all I need you to do is the basic construction as we talked about, and I can add in the details that overlap… And, since we can't really deal with both projects at the same time, we’ll just work on it together.” Arthur bit at his lip as Tulla let out a large yawn, offering a dazzling display of her many sharp teeth and oddly too-long tongue that, at least, by human standards. It stretched to its full length while her maw nearly unhinged, the thin pink muscle oddly wiggling. Still, he shook himself from thoughts of how they spoke so well as he recalled that they—didn't, at least not his language, and moved on to another issue he had to deal with. “It’s—getting late, Tulla, we can keep going in the morning. You need to get to bed if you're going to have a decent night's rest at this point… and only an hour of cartoons, understand?”

“Mmmmhhhmmm…” The young bal replied, the entire weight of her accumulated mental fatigue settling in as she tried to stand and, wobbled on her hooves. It was too cute…

Arthur reached down and swept her up as she leaned into him, arms, tail and wings wrapping around his back as he took her to the camper, tucking her into pre-warmed blankets and giving her a small kiss on the forehead. The girl seemed to luxuriate in the attention, writhing with earnest glee as she smiled brightly at him and shuffled her way deeper into the bed.

“One hour.” He reiterated, giving her his best stern look. “And, you remember what to do if anything tries to come into the trailer while I'm gone?”

“Portal card.” Tulla parroted, yawning again as she reached over for the tablet to start sifting through the myriad of shows stored on the computer.

“Good girl.” Arthur sighed, turning around to head back outside. “I don't know how long I’ll be gone, but I can't imagine it’s gonna be super late when I get back…”

His newly adopted daughter bobbed her head in understanding, losing interest in the conversation as her mind seemed to slip, even as she was perusing her beloved cartoons. The sight made him smile; it was nice to see the girl so happy…

Arthur locked the camper door once he was outside, tinting the windows from his phone until they were too dark to see into. Briefly, he considered simply—walking to the village on his own but reconsidered after giving it a second thought. Sure, he’d probably be fine, but if the worst happened, then Tulla would be alone and potentially in danger… He had no idea when Dianna was actually planning to come back at this point, her alleged brief stint into the labyrinth having come off as though she were going on a vacation, sure but that had seemingly been extended from the initial quote… Well, if anything else, the honest notion that she felt comfortable leaving her daughter in his hands for an extended period of time was—touching…

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Cracking his neck, Arthur reached deeply into himself, feeling that not-at-all-familiar reserve of inner power he’d never known to ever be there before coming to this strange new world. With a lopsided grin and weary shake of his head, Arthur pulled upon his reserve of what he was tentatively calling mana and forced a portal into existence between two points of reality that he envisioned in his mind. The world exploded with swirling oily colours before his very eyes, a rippling vortex of power emerging as the universe was torn, then reunited to his will!

The anomaly set against the stone rectangle he’d built partially into the earth twisted, then came into focus as the gateway secured its connection, solidifying the image he was still unused to. Arthur stepped through the dimensional rift a heartbeat later and promptly allowed the connection to fade after reaching his destination. Portals had been easy once he’d learned how to, as he had explained it to Tulla, cheat magic, and, now unbeknownst to even the villagers, Arthur could travel entire kilometres in a single moment. Granted, he felt drained afterwards, and a distance of any true considerable margin was—problematic, but the short travel from his RV to the quiet little spot outside of the settlement was easy enough to handle. He’d have to talk to Cassandra about those shaping exercises she’d been working on with Tulla so he could better train his mind to handle the magical strain on his brain… As it was, and, much to her utter delight, his daughter was simply better at magic than he was by virtue of sheer capacity that she could withstand… and, therein lay the problem with how he was going about it all.

Arthur didn't really understand the forces he was playing with. Oh sure, he could make some general leaps of faith thanks to humanity's apparent tendency to—get a surprisingly sizable chunk of all this fantasy lunacy right, but they were exactly that, leaps of faith. Magic, just as any other form of professional study involving minute detail, was a science. And, while Arthur could cook a meal, spice it to his high standards, heat it until he knew it was the perfect temperature to serve, he could not explain the—fine details of what was happening to the meat on a molecular scale, at least, not with any confidence towards holding a conversation with someone who did really know the nitty-gritty of it all. Yes, Arthur could make portals and design runes with the aid of skill books, but what was magic on a fundamental level?

Why were some forms of the art harder to control than others, what were the accepted doctrines that could categorize it? He had a—great number of questions he wanted answered; however, he wasn't sure how to go about having that done without—causing issues. By now, he was fairly certain he could trust Dianna and Tulla, Tavir and Cassie as well, but… he honestly didn't know many of the other inhabitants of the settlement that well. Sure, Tavir had sort of told everyone he could make soul cards, but quite frankly, it hadn't come off as such an enormous deal. Apparently, Dianna hadn't been kidding about not knowing much about magic, as she’d actually gotten quite a few things wrong. People could make soul cards that could level; it was just that such techniques weren't known to the bal themselves. It was a fey practice, which definitely made him valuable, but there were known fey within the imperium with some degree of the capabilities in question; thus, while special, he wasn't unique. But, as to whether their power was exactly like his own, nobody really could say for more—obvious reasons…

Honestly, he was more or less stuck trying to figure out if he wanted to come clean with the older Bal woman who he understood knew magic quite well, and again, in her own right, absent any soul cards of course, or if he wanted to wait until Dianna came back to move forwards with all the protection she offered. Helping the bal to actually make something of their rather—depressing little settlement was one thing, but Arthur’s bleeding heart only extended so far… He—liked Cassie and Tavir and all the others he’d met, but Arthur didn't work for them; he wasn't their slave and, more than that, had plans to ensure his sovereignty going forward rather than remaining beholden to his host's good graces.

Dianna had been a step towards that. Sure, there were burgeoning feelings there as well, but Arthur wasn't so smitten to be blinded by love alone. No, they both were getting something they wanted from their impromptu relationship. And, given that she seemed to be the badest thing around, Arthur had felt a certain—immunity since it had been made common knowledge that they were together, which was refreshingly reassuring to his survival. One that also existed beyond the general orders of Tavir to his people… That said, he wasn't without his own lingering fears… yes, Dianna was strong; her having lifted him up by a single hand without appearing to strain in the slightest had been proof of that, but exactly how strong was she? Compared to himself, absent any nefarious tricks up his sleeve? Depressingly. With his bag of duplicitous and cheat-worthy cards? Still depressingly, unless he got the jump on her… Cassie had hit the nail on the head when she’d said it: Arthur was weak… Whatever bonuses the bal got with their metamorphosis card were obviously too much for him to deal with as he currently was… but that didn't mean he was without recourse should—something happen to him.

This was why he wanted to keep what he could do in a broader sense a secret. And even his ability to make cards had been tremendously understated. Every trump he had beneath his sleeve was another chance he wouldn't be caught out should a decision against his autonomy be made. Arthur wasn't stupid; he knew what he was doing was—abnormal… All it would take is for the wrong things to be whispered in the wrong ears, and bam, he was locked in some subterranean research facility and nicknamed E.T… Honestly, he had hopes that, at the very least, Dianna’s family weren't individuals he’d have to worry about, but, at the same time, did he really know any of them? Dianna, he at least felt, was on his side… largely because she was a wildcard… too powerful to control on her own, thus, sent away to the fringe of society with the promise of free land to help hold and subdue her empire's latest conquest. He had value to her, more value than anyone else save her daughter, and, for that, Arthur knew he could count on her, if, for nothing else than her own self-interest… “Ah… maybe I'm just being paranoid…”

He looked up, glancing skywards to eye the network of silvery roots that expanded across the cosmos above, mind racing as it swirled with uncertainties and hesitation… “So then, the answer is that I need to get stronger—right?”

Well, on paper, that was the end-all goal to ensure his safety… but it wasn't as if he could just—leap to that point overnight… The way Dianna had described it, the labyrinth was in no way a joke… People died there all the time, trained warriors, magi and rookies all… It was a hostile landscape, one in which everything around oneself wanted to eat you… And that prospect alone made Arthur shiver with apprehension. He wasn't a fighter, not a soldier or killer beyond hunting; sure, he’d acted the whole dangerous outworlder bit to keep himself from a slave collar, but… fighting and combat simply weren't things he was—really that interested in… Arthur was an idea’s man. He liked building, not tearing things apart… and, while he didn't abhor violence, if there were better ways to go about his life than leaving a bloody smear of bodies in his wake wherever he walked, then he wanted to find it… The only problem came down to trust. Well, trust and soul cards… of which he was getting annoyingly low.

“Maybe it's time for another hunt…” He murmured to himself, walking through the dimly lit settlement that was already looking more abandoned than when he’d first visited. He stopped while walking by Tavir’s old home, glancing idly through the window as he noted just how—quiet this part of town was these days.

“New village’s been making decent progress then…” In fact, when he really looked around, most of the interiors of the old homes were dark, those of which hadn't already been digitized for raw materials, that was… Maybe he would have to move his portal anchor soon…

As Arthur moved closer to the newer half of the village, sentries stationed in new towers waving to him amidst the illuminated glow of fire and root light, and the young man soon found himself facing a—new dilemma…

“Towers…” He grumbled, looking skyward to stare at the strange birdhouse-like pod that was Tavir and Cassandra’s new home. His gaze picking it out against the myriad of others.

The bal certainly had—curious architecture when compared to examples from his homeland… They built tall, towering structures that loomed over the world below, infrastructure, homes and any other assorted buildings coming in rather refreshing and unique designs. So far, only one tower had been constructed, or, perhaps it was more prudent to say, one tower was in the process of construction; however, with the advent of the multi’s, what was built was apparently adequate enough for the bal to move into en-mass. Arthur knew there were already plans in the works for the surrounding towers that would serve as the pillars for public amenities, schools, parks, training yards and practically anything beyond housing, but for now, and given how few individuals lived in the village, their new home was—humble to say the least. Still, it felt as though it had gone up overnight, all things considered…

Arthur made his way to the interior stairwell, pondering as he climbed flight after flight exactly how he could manage to come up with a means to emulate a bird. Granted, he was pretty sure magic played a large role in the grand scheme of things, considering physics wouldn't have looked too kindly on the bal’s aerial shenanigans given their size, but Arthur wasn't sure if wings were the right answer for him…

He’d much rather prefer simply zipping about like Superman over actual flappy appendages… which brought into question of why he hadn't tried to make himself a tarot that would let him be something like a Sayan or Kryptonian. Well, at least in the latter case, the definitive lack of sunlight might cause—issues with the whole power thing, but if he could start tossing energy blasts with his hands while screaming the name of cool, overpowered and mountain-cracking abilities then—shouldn't he give it a try? For science? Then again, he wasn't much of a martial artist… nor did this world need a red-caped crusader of justice… “Eh, drone strikes are easier anyways…” Maybe he’d just build a jetpack or something…

In the end, the climb wasn't so bad. The Costis family was only a handful of flights up, and ever since he’d moved to the fringes of civilization, Arthur could be said to be—fit. A moment later, he was knocking at their door, waiting with a pleasant smile while pulling a nice bottle of wine from his dimensional storage. The door opened to reveal Cassandra, eyebrow raised as if already surprised, wearing clothes one might have called pyjamas, though, with a decided militant flare of utilitarianism about them. Essentially, she just wore a long off-white dress, which—admittedly, did things for her figure that simply weren't fair. He had to fight from having himself a glance at the high beams shooting at him, especially because they weren't far off from eye level, his inner lizard brain appreciative for the fact that as old as she might be, everything about her was still—in its proper place. Undoubtedly, she was potentially the sexiest older woman he’d ever seen and the fittest… Given that his new wife and she were sisters, well… Arthur knew he had a lot to look forwards to for countless years to come.

“Cassie!” Arthur chirped with just a touch of forced cheer. “Sorry to spring in on you like this, but I wanted to speak with you about Tulla and her lessons. I ummm… I brought wine.”

The older woman just—stared at him for a moment, earnestly looking surprised he’d shown up on her doorstep. Still, a genuine smile crossed her full lips, one that did reveal her many razors hidden beneath, but, Arthur knew it wasn't an act of intimidation. Merely a smile. Though, after a moment her expression fell to one of concern. Nevertheless she shifted to invite him inside, her words flowing from her without the filter of propriety she liked to apply to herself whilst in public.

“How did you get here, Arthur? It's late, dark out, and I certainly hope you didn't walk all the way here from your compound.”

“I can confirm I did do some walking, but nothing beyond a short hike. Im—sure you wouldn't be too surprised if I said I’d been playing with magic and have devised a safe enough way here on my own?”

Cassie snorted, a remarkably unladylike sound coming from a woman who liked to hold herself as something akin to what he could compare to a headmistress. Though, it was a form of snarky response that both sisters seemed to share. Still, she closed the door behind him and wandered over to her kitchen to procure them a couple of glasses, talking over her shoulder as she went. “I know you have your secrets, dear brother, but do remember those weeks back when you arrived in our little settlement and were almost murdered by your now wife. I'm not saying you're in danger here, but there are things on this world that like to hunt soft and squishy prey at night. We haven't been here long enough to establish our dominance of the area, and I should hate to learn one morning that you suddenly disappeared into the belly of some animal that hasn't learned this is our land now.”

The older Bal returned from the other room, taking a seat with Arthur at their dining table. He handed the bottle of Merlot to Cassandra, who took it and gazed inwards at its captivating colour with honest excitement.

“May I?” She drawled, fingers already on the cork even before Arthur could reply. He nodded right as she popped it, smiling indulgently while letting the aromatic contents drift by her nose. “Is it young or old?” She asked a moment later, looking at him expectantly without yet reaching for a glass.

“Umm… young by logical standards of time, but… magically aged, I guess?” Arthur hedged, earning himself a scowl from Cassie, who placed the bottle to the side while crossing her legs.

“Then I will let it breathe for ten minutes at least. It's not a fancy occasion, given I'm in my nightgown, and I get the feeling you made this with your unique brand of—magic.”

“I did do that… right on the money!”

“Right.” Cassie smiled, rolling her eyes as she did so. “So tell me dear, why is it you've decided to come speak with me so late? Is it about Dianna, or were you hoping to see Tavir?”

“Uhh… right, first, sorry for intruding at the hour, I just assumed you’d still be awake…” Cassandra waved his apology away with a sly smile, urging him to continue and letting Arthur know she wasn't upset. Likely, the wine had been an appropriate gift. He knew how much it irked the demoness before him that she was so far from polite society. “Well, the truth of the matter is that I actually have a few things on my mind that I wanted to run by you… First, I guess, would be Dianna, yes… I just wanted to know if you thought she was…”

“Dead?” Cassie suggested when Arthur’s words had trailed off. He winced at her blunt comment but nodded all the same. Cassandra just chortled a short laugh, displaying her gleaming rows of bladed pearly whites as her tail writhed behind her. “No, I doubt my sister is dead. Hurt, maybe, but she does like to take risks. Trust me, she is perhaps the most—gifted individual I’ve ever met when it comes to direct combat. She’s a born killer and likes what she’s good at. I’d say the bigger issue with her extended absence is you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Obviously, she trusts you more than anyone has given credit. I won't impose on your relationship with her to ask why such a thing is but I do trust my sister. She’s at least as smart as I am, even though she’d never been one for her academics.” Cassie growled her words as her mind obviously revisited their youths for a time, but she snapped out of it a few moments later, offering him a shrug as she continued. “I imagine her extended absence is entirely due to the fact that she has utter confidence in your ability to look after Tulla. That child means the world to her, and though it assuredly does confuse more than one person I’ve talked to about it in passing, Dianna has—admitted certain things to me about some of your shared interactions that have me mollified enough to let the two of you be out there.”

“Oh? Did she actually tell you how we almost killed each other?”

“Hmhmhmhm… she did. I’ve never seen my sister so infuriated and horney in my entire life. Cheapshot or otherwise, she was at least under the assumption that her life truly was in peril.”

Arthur—choked on his own saliva as Cassie cackled, grinning ear to ear. These people were mad. He’d known it from the beginning, he had, but still, it surprised him when his feelings were ratified…

“Then… on to the next topic…” The young man chuckled, feeling the good mood as his new sister-in-law began pouring the wine. “I wanted to mention that I intended to do some light hunting. There’s a nice basin not far away, and at the bottom of a valley that’s filled with these—cow-like creatures.”

“Lightning Yak’s.”

“Lightning Yak’s?”

“Yes, you heard me right the first time.” Cassandra nodded, looking entirely nonchalant about the phrase she’d just uttered while seeming to enjoy herself, not yet sipping but wafting her glass by her nose. “Terribly dangerous creatures… touched by the void as most animals that develop strange soul cards are. Not difficult to get rid of with a good hunt, soldiers and arrows and the like… They taste quite nice as well.” Then, her gaze sharpened on Arthur as he drank, fixing him with a decidedly intense stare. “Arthur. They are not so—concerning on their own that I might be worried for your safety, but, as a herd? Forgive me if I sound condescending, but I do have my doubts about your success. It's a threat that I wouldn't force those who ventured into the labyrinth to combat on their own… As I said, they are very dangerous in numbers.”

“Because of the lighting?”

“Obviously. However, it is better to consider it more—static. As I said, on their own, not a huge ordeal. Their defensive creatures that are as liable to charge as flee when confronted, and their wool seems to have unique magical properties akin to many of the monsters found in the labyrinth that lets them build a charge of electricity and shock predators that try and take them. Close combat is—ill-advised… Now, when you get four or six of the big buggers all chasing after you, that is when things can get scary.”

“I'm guessing that they build said electricity faster when in close proximity and, maybe, even shoot it out when grouped together?”

Cassie blinked at him for a moment before nodding her head, finally deciding to take a sip and then closing her eyes with obvious relish for the flavour. “Mmmmm, the wine was a wonderful gift, by the way, I do appreciate it. And, to answer your question, yes, you have the right of it. The easiest way to deal with them is from range with bows and spears. That said, if you're not careful, the creatures will charge directly at your line of archers. Not exactly a problem for my people, as you can imagine but for others? Devastating.”

“I—didn't intend to fight them—fairly,” Arthur admitted with a sheepish smile. “Range is the name of my game.”

“Still, Tavir would be furious with me if I gave you my blessings to just go on your own. Not that I intend to stop you; I'm not your mother, dear, and you've proven competent enough. That said, I know many of us would feel much—better if you might let me assign you a guard.” Arthur’s mouth moved to object but Cassie merely raised her hand to shush him, rolling over his yet unaired discontent with the idea as she followed through without waiting. “I'm not trying to spy or hinder you, my dear. Please consider the ramifications if you did get yourself killed. Do you not have a daughter who would mourn your passing and a new wife? Is dealing with some of my kind intruding for a day or two, watching your back in an unknown landscape you yourself have admitted is alien to you so infuriating an idea that you’d ignore the fact that we are, in theory, still in an active warzone? One of such that we have recently gotten confirmation that there are still active combatants dug into a nearby stronghold. I’ll remind you, Arthur, as, It seems you may have already forgotten, of how exactly it was you first met my niece.”

She—had a point, Arthur knew, but at the same time… no… she was right, he knew that… The problem was that he really hadn't wanted the Bal to see what he was planning. Holding his cards close to his chest, as it were… But, he knew his combat capabilities were going to be noted at some point, and maybe letting his new neighbours know what he could do in a directly non-threatening manner to their liberty was exactly what he was looking for. After all, the nuclear option always worked best as a threat observed and one that was known by all rather than a secret last resort.

“Right…” He murmured, not contesting her point and earning a cunning smile from the beautiful demoness across from him who took her win with as much grace as could be hoped for. Still, he did have a timeline he was working with, so if they couldn't accommodate then that was their fault. “Well, my plan was to head out in the morning. I’ve had Tulla working pretty hard the past few days so I wanted to reward her with something I think she’ll find fun if I’ve gotten a proper read of her.”

“Does it involve violence?” Cassie grinned, her expression growing as Arthur nodded. “Then she’ll love it dear. Trust me, Tulla is as bad as her mother is. Given how she grew up, it won't surprise me if, one day, she’d be better at what Dianna does when she’s at the age. But that's beyond the point. Tomorrow morning works fine. I’ll let Kilk and Jade know they are on guard detail tonight; they'll love some time away from the others and this blasted project of ours…” Cassie sighed, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling as though completely exhausted… “Honestly, I can speak for us all that we are eternally grateful for your help building a proper home for everyone, but I'm sick of the chaos of it all… I'm supposed to be retired! Not retraining myself for a career in engineering…”

“New house looks pretty good, though.”

“It is a wonderful feeling, Arthur.” Cassandra agreed, her expression soft as she reached across the table and squeezed his hand with a gentle smile. “But, like I said, the madness of it all is exhausting. Sometimes, when things move too quickly, a new host of issues of their own unique brand of weary consequence arise to just make everyone stressed to the point of breaking. I don't doubt that we could all use a little break once the main tower is completed.”

“Well…” Arthur hedged, offering the older woman a bright smile. “I suppose it might come as a blessing to know that I’ve decided to—personally take over Tulla’s education…”

“Ohhh?” Cassandra droned, releasing his hand to lean back in her chair while regarding him carefully.

“I know you were teaching her magic, but so far as everything else goes, she seems quite learned for her age. Well, even magic falls into that category, I suppose, as she’s actually better than I am at the practical once she gets the hang of it. Truly, I don't want to step on your—hooves over this, but I am developing a rather interesting new way to harness mana that's partially based on my own people's understanding of science, and she’d taken quite well to it, actually, were already delving into rune crafting.”

“Really? Hmm… well, you’ll have to show me what you can do with it when you're ready to share. I don't take offence by the by; if you're teaching her anything along the lines of what those devices can do then I’m all for it. One less conventionally trained magi won't hurt the imperium, and I had my doubts about Tulla’s desires to pursue my craft once she was of age regardless.”

Arthur—studied Cassie for a few moments, mind still trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. He’d thought, given how dogged she’d been about her niece's studies, that the older woman would have—resisted abstaining her position as the girl's primary teacher… Yet, the longer he stared at her, the more he got the sense she was—pleased by the prospect of it all. “You—don't seem that upset that I’ve basically decided she won't be attending your lessons anymore…”

“I don't, do I?” She sang, smiling from ear to ear.

“Mhmmmm… not that I want to stir the pot or pry, but—”

“Hah! Arthur, like I said, I am retired. Do you think I was teaching Tulla because I wanted the extra stress and aggravation in my life?”

Arthur considered saying something, paused, let his mouth close as he revisited his wine glass then, in the end, shrugged. “A fair point. Duty and—family was it?”

“Always is.” Cassandra cued, grinning at him like a serpent who’d feasted upon the field mouse’s burrow.