While the people of Quest might find it hard to believe, I’m not invincible.

Since the day of my divine transformation, I’ve discovered a few limitations to my new body. Firstly, while I can recover from any injury with a simple transformation, each transformation consumes my ooze. The bigger the change, the more ooze it takes.

Secondly, while my oozey base form is impervious to almost all forms of attack, strong enough magic can pierce those defenses. A titan proved that. And while I disengaged before it could do any real damage, just the fact that I was able to feel it’s magic is a bad sign.

So. The campaign proved that I’m not invincible. Which is very bad news. I was kind of counting on magic immunity when I made big plans to face down dragons and I don’t have that. It’s going to take more than my natural advantages if I want to face them, though I’d rather not if I can help it. Saints, I’ll need more than that to cross the north and make it to the estrazi warren. More than that to meet who I suspect is my sibling in chaos. Cosmo’s first agent, Ezossoa.

I’ve also awakened to the idea that the stronger I am, the better protected the people important to me are. Not in the literal sense, because that’s obvious. Right now, no one in the city would dare think about kidnapping my family again. I’d be amazed if someone looks them in the eye. And that is a trend I want to spread to the whole of Harvest. No, the whole world.

It’s not enough to be strong. I must be overwhelming. Overshadowing. As immutable as a natural law, inevitable as the sun rising and falling.

…probably too much. But as someone once said, shoot enough arrows and you’re bound to hit something eventually.

I’m on a journey of self-improvement. Not Kierra’s basic training or the simple initiate classes. I need to maximize all my potential. Every form I can take and all seven affinities. The key to both is knowledge. Of myself, of the world, and of spellcraft. Thankfully, though they’ve been woefully neglected, I have the best resources to obtain said mastery of self. The succubi.

If any being can help rival the natural rulers of the world in less than a year, it’s them but I have to be careful of their help. Letting them into my mind is like carving the information into my head with a knife. Expedient, sure, but one wrong move, one imperfect order, and I’m as good as dead. Probably worse, knowing them. Killing me would be wasteful.

I have an idea about that but it’ll have to wait until Geneva is finished with her errand. In the meantime, I’m emulating my servants. In the afternoons, I’ve taken to sitting behind the large desk in the study and, well…studying. Natural laws, affinities, and the places where they intersect.

What makes a dual or triple affinity caster scary? The ability to use spells that combine their elements. Otherwise, two or three casters with a single affinity would be their equal. However, to even begin to understand how to combine said affinities through magic, I need to understand how they interact in the world.

Moments after sitting in the big chair, Bell comes scampering into the room, agilely leaping onto the upper left corner of the desk. And then, with a flash of color, Rolly appears between us, thin gossamer wings moving so fast they’re a blur and tiny body a vibrant mix of yellows and oranges.

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“Who’s ready to play Elements and Interactions?” the lueorale exclaims before giggling, kicking her little legs gleefully.

It makes me smile but I can’t work up even a fraction of her energy. “You said you’d work on the name.”

“A good name takes inspiration. It’ll come to me. More importantly, it’s time to have fun as we learn. Right, Bell?”

“Coo!”

A part of me hates this. They’re treating me like a child and it’s grating. However, it’s hard to complain when it’s necessary. There is something about the combination of pertinent information and the cadence a voice naturally slips into when lecturing that turns my brain off. The games, the big voice, the lights. It’s embarrassing but it keeps my attention and makes the information stick. I’ll have a better plan going forward but for now, it’s what works.

Light sparkles around Rolly as she does a performative twirl. “Then let’s start!” The sparkles gather in front of me, forming a glittery cloud before splitting in two. “As always, we’ll start with something simple. Fire and water can makeeee?”

I resist the urge to sigh. I can’t believe I enjoyed this at first. Let’s see. There’re a few ways this can go but I think we’ll go with… “Ice.”

“Oh, we’re taking away the heat this time.” The two glittery clouds come back together and a hazy picture of ice floats in front of me.

“Coo!”

“Your tutor wants to make things interesting!” A glittery cloud appears next to the ice. “Ice and null makeeee?”

“Projectile.” For as much as its prized, the null affinity only has one application in combat. Movement. Moving things faster, moving things slower. Moving things out of the way or moving them into the way. It has a lot more uses, aptly demonstrated by Kierra’s mother, but all of them are well beyond me and not high on my list of priorities.

The clouds come together and the block of ice turns into an arrow.

“Coo.”

Another cloud. “Ice projectile and light makeeee?”

“Invisible projectile.”

“Invisible ice projectile and earth makeeee?”

Hm. “…invisible ice projectile hidden in visible earth projectiles.”

“That’s the way! Okay. Storm of projectiles with a surprise plus air and fire makeeee?”

“Exploding projectiles with a surprise.”

On and on it goes. With each question, the flashes of light become more obnoxious, the congratulations of my elementals more grating. It’s an effective exercise. A crucial one, I’d dare say. But I can’t focus. The frustration builds and builds until I interrupt Rolly’s light show by slamming a fist into the desk, cracking the thick wood. The pictures and sparkles disappear but Rolly’s yellow coloring, which I’m pretty sure represents amusement, doesn’t fade or shift in the slightest.

“Careful,” she says with a chuckle. “That’s already the third and replacing it isn’t as simple as walking down to the furniture store.”

I flex my hand. It’s probably a bad thing that I keep hitting things, right? “…this isn’t working. I need a break.”

“Nuh-uh. You needed a break yesterday. You need a solution.”

“Don’t suppose one of those will fall from the sky into my lap?”

“Coo!” Bell leaps from the corner of the desk, landing in my lap. Four ruby eyes look up at me. {Allow me, my master.}

“Keep those cute little mitts to yourself.”

She lets out a dejected coo, playing on my heart, but when I remain steadfast, the act fades. {Then allow me to present the next best action.}

Do I want to trust your next best option?

A few moments later, there is a knock on the door. The person doesn’t wait for me to call them in. Bell jumps out of my lap as Talia walks into the room. Rolly disappears with another giggle as our flower walks around the desk, her stony face morphing into a perfect pout, the expression given extra power for its rarity.

“Poor Lou,” she whispers, one hand reaching up to stroke my cheek. “Are you hurting?”

I take her hand and nuzzle it. I don’t know why but she’s always a little cool to the touch. It’s nice. “Just feeling a little out of it.”

“Mm. Do you want to talk about it?”

A part of me wants to. She’s proved a great confidante and I’m going to have to deal with it eventually. Eventually, but not today. “No.”

She beckons me to my feet with gentle force. I let her guide me out of the room. “Then let me make it better.”