Angela fiddled awkwardly at Leonard's mention of the squirrel from the tree. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that his dating opportunity had just been launched into low-Arenia orbit.

Leonard stood up on his hind legs. “You hear dat? I think someone’s knockin’ on the door.”

A knock on the door?

Hmm…

Best to be careful.

“Okay, Leonard, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to climb onto the roof and I’m going to use your senses to see who it is.”

“Aw, I don’t wanna.”

“I think you have to.”

“But it’s so high up!”

“Leonard, get your hibernation-ready ass on the roof!”

With one last scowl, he dragged himself up a drain spout. Angela gave him a moment to get into position, then triggered Sense Meld.

It was…weird. The first thing Angela noticed was her sense of smell. It was bonkers. Not just for the sheer volume of scents, but the fact that she was somehow able to differentiate between them. And that was on top of the completely messed-up visual input she was receiving. Not only were the colours off, but she had a way wider field of view; able to see not just in front of her, but right around the sides of Leonard’s head, almost to the point of seeing directly behind him.

Only now did she appreciate the importance of the “…and process…” part of Leonard’s Ability description. Without that caveat, she would never have been able to handle an information load like this.

Angela immediately reconsidered how best to use this Ability. At first, she’d envisioned using Leonard like a magical fibre-optic camera, able to spy on things from afar. Only now could she fully appreciate what the other senses brought to the table. Hell, she didn’t even need him to clear the house before she knew who was at the front door. His sense of smell was more than sufficient for the task.

That said, something was confusing about Naomi’s odour. Why would a person smell like squirrel?

That mystery was solved when Leonard crested the house and laid eyes on their houseguest.

“Oh, shit,” Angela said, hurrying to the door and cringing as she opened it to reveal a very annoyed-looking Naomi. She was holding one hand to the side of her face where a nasty purple bruise was already starting to form.

“Ooohhh…what happened?” Angela asked, hoping she sounded convincing.

“What happened?” Naomi answered curtly. “What happened is that I was on my way over here, minding my own business, when I got hit in the face with a squirrel!” She punctuated her outburst by holding up the flattened squirrel by its tail.

“Marcie!” Leonard shouted. He jumped off the roof, landing on Naomi’s shoulder and running along her outstretched arm. Looking down at the corpse, he raised his squirrel arms to the heavens and shouted, “Why, Ennàd, why? I didn’t even get a chance to schtupp her yet!”

Angela stared at him. “That’s your concern?”

“Yeah, what else would I be goin’ on about?”

“Dude, that’s cold,” she said, shaking her head.

“Lady, I’m a squirrel. Practically everyone in this city wants ta eat us, people included. If I got worked up every time one of us got whacked, I’d never get outta bed.”

“ANYWAY…” Naomi said.

“Oh, crap, right,” Angela said, remembering Naomi’s unfortunate state. “You want to come in?”

“Please.”

Angela made the necessary notation in her Tome, then led the woman inside to clean herself up, Leonard hopping across to Angela’s shoulder as he passed. Once in the bathroom, Naomi splashed water on her face, then looked around in confusion. “Is there…?”

“Here you go,” Angela said, holding out the apron that had once held the family silverware. Naomi raised an eyebrow, but Angela shrugged unapologetically. “I assure you, that’s the best towel in the house.”

“Okay then,” the woman said, wetting the end of the apron and cleaning the blood off her face. “At least you have running water.” She looked closer at the tap and sniffed. “Not just sewer-filtered, either. This is clearly desalinated from the ocean. Very nice.”

“Uh, yeah,” Angela said, somewhat disturbed by the idea of their drinking water getting pulled out of the sewers and simply filtered on its way into the house. Hopefully through magical means. Very, very magical.

Naomi looked at Angela through the mirror as she finished rinsing her face. “Is your brother home?”

“No, he went with my mom to the Port District,” Angela said. Pretending to remember something, she snapped her fingers and pointed back at the woman. “Oh yeah, before I forget: Has anyone ever told you that a bag of heads is a really fucked up thing to send to a person? Can you not do that anymore?”

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Naomi turned and looked at her directly. “I had a quest,” she said, as though that answered everything.

“Aaaaand…?”

“And what? The quest demanded that I bring the perpetrators of the crime to justice and notify your family. I did it, the quest was completed, and I moved another step closer to my next class evolution. Everyone wins.”

Angela’s eyes went wide. “Are you joking? The law says that theft is punishable by execution? Also, I’m pretty sure the people whose heads went missing wouldn’t see this as ‘a win.’”

Naomi put the apron down. Her voice was calm and level. “No, the law does not say theft is punishable by execution. The law says thievery is punishable by anything up to execution, but may be reduced based on the severity of the crime. My quest, however, stipulated that I ‘bring the perpetrators to justice.’ If I gave them too lenient a punishment because I was unaware of some other crime they had committed, Ceartais—the god of Justice—might have decided that justice was not served. If that happened, I could have been stuck with an open quest until I discovered why the god wasn’t satisfied, or if I could not determine how I had displeased him, ended up begging at their church for a quest to make amends. Either outcome could have cost me years of advancement. Years I do not have to spare. Thus, the logical solution was to levy the maximum penalty allowed by law, ensuring no unknown crimes went unaccounted for.”

Angela’s jaw dropped. “You killed all those people just to close a quest?”

“I seen worse,” Leonard said with a shrug.

Naomi pointed at the squirrel. “Listen to your familiar. This is how it is done on Arenia. Something you would understand if you were from here. Which you clearly are not.”

Angela sighed.

She wasn’t an idiot. She knew Naomi had figured out they were Legends, but the blunt way the mage brought it up suggested she wanted to force a conversation. If Naomi wanted that, fine. But there was no way Angela would be a pushover. Especially considering the nebulous nature of Naomi’s morality.

“Fine. You want to have this conversation? Let’s have it. But let’s be clear: I’m a Legend. You can destroy me, but I can play the long game. It will go poorly for you if you try to blackmail or manipulate my family.”

One side of Naomi’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “Very impressive, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t have much of a chance in a fair fight.”

“Why would I fight fair?”

“Even still.”

Angela slit her eyes and growled. “Everybody sleeps.”

They stared at each other.

“Actually, a lot of species don’t sleep,” Naomi noted.

“Dammit!” Angela said. “I was hoping that wasn’t the case.” She sighed and gave up her Clint Eastwood impression. Based on her reflection in the mirror, it looked more like she was administering a home enema kit.

Naomi put a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “I have no interest in harming your family. Quite the opposite. But if I am going to help you, it would be much easier if we cease pretending you aren’t Legends. It is a rather significant data point.”

“Yeah, we aren’t doing a very good job hiding it, are we?”

“Not in the slightest,” Naomi agreed.

“What gave us away?” Angela asked. “It’s when dad said, ‘What on earth,’ isn’t it?”

“Actually, no,” Naomi said. “That’s a common expression, as are several others that I understand to be of Earthen origin.”

“Seriously? That’s kinda weird.”

“Not really. Legends are generally venerated and occasionally vilified, so it’s not surprising that some of their colloquialisms have leaked into general use. From my understanding, the meaning of the phrases remains largely unchanged.”

“Wait…you know about Earth?”

“Of course,” Naomi said with a wry grin. “Did you really think that none of the Legends in all our recorded history would have mentioned the name of their home or how they came to be here?”

“Huh” Angela said pensively. “I guess I thought the information might have been magically blocked or something. What did give us away?”

“Lack of general knowledge, odd Skill sets, your unusual housing situation—that kind of thing,” Naomi said. “The most telling bit was the silverware. You are fortunate that Darius brought it to us first. The man is a talented blacksmith, but he isn’t the clearest pane in the window. Something so unusual would have aroused a great deal of suspicion as to the origin, whereas for me it simply confirmed what I had already surmised.”

“You’re the one who bought the silverware?”

“I am.”

Blargh. And probably for way over retail.

“Okay, well, don’t tell my mom. She won’t be happy to find out she’s indebted to you.”

“I don’t see it that way, but understood.”

“Cool. Now, next question: Are you gonna rat us out?”

Naomi looked confused. “Why would I do that?”

Angela sighed and shook her head. “All anyone has told us since we got here is that if the Families find out we’re Legends, we’re screwed. You’re as Family as they come.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Naomi said darkly. “For reasons you don’t understand, I am not as ‘Family’ as you think. House Glass is willing to indulge my whims with you because it tweaks the nose of both the Mage’s College and House Laws, but so far as my kin know, you are refugees with some odd abilities, nothing more. If they knew you were Legends, your fates would be taken out of my hands. The same goes for the College.”

“So why are you helping us, then?”

“Because both organizations view me as a piece on a gameboard, and that is something I grew tired of many years ago. All that is left to me is my curiosity, and you are very curious. I see no reason to toss aside this opportunity.”

Angela scowled. “Our freedom hinges on how much we can keep you entertained?”

Naomi held up a palm in apology. “I’m sorry; that came out wrong. Yes, I am curious about Mark’s magic and your status as Legends, but that doesn’t make me unsympathetic to your fate. You are just as trapped by the games of the Palmyrian elite as I am. The only difference is that nobody knows your pieces are on the board. I envy you for that, and I hope to keep you hidden for as long as possible. That won’t last forever, though, which is why I am here with you now. You may be magic users in the technical sense, but that is useless if you don’t understand how magic works. My conversation with Mark yesterday proved that beyond a doubt. Hopefully, I can fill in some of those gaps so you will be prepared for what is to come.”

“Unngh…” Angela moaned, dropping her head. “Is this going to be a political story? I hate political stories! Why couldn’t I have just stumbled into a cave and become totally OP like in a normal LitRPG? Or gotten a harem? That would’ve been cool.”

Naomi cocked her head. “You want a harem?”

“No, I don’t want a harem.”

“But you just said—”

“It was an inside joke.”

Leonard tugged on Angela’s hair. “Can I get a harem?”

“No! No harem! No harems whatsoever!”

The squirrel nodded. “I’m sensin’ a bit of wiggle room here. We can circle back to it later.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Angela said, dropping her head again. “Leonard, no talking. Naomi, what do we do now? Are you waiting for my brother? He won’t be back for a while, but I sure as hell have questions of my own.”

“That’s fine; I don’t have any pressing duties. What would you like to know?”

Naomi's words caused Angela to brighten, and she grinned while placing one arm around the mage's shoulders. “Tell me…What do you know about runes?”