I wasn’t sure if I had become numb to Partridge or if he had just given up trying so hard with me. Things had definitely changed in the last month. After the lecture on what to do or what was expected of me, with no real reason to discipline me, he had sent me on the way. Promotion's in the mail while they decided if I actually completed the Quest or not. Picked up my meds, and gave a low bow to everyone and everything I passed in the Org - but still, numb to it all.

With a flash of vertigo, I was back in the basement, and I immediately deflated. My muscles had given up wanting to exist. Even the blue paint seemed drab. Wight swirled into existence into his birdman form, and I gestured for us to head up. I needed a coffee. Possibly a change of career.

Judging by the dim light filling the house, I had been away most of the waking day, and evening sauntered across the sky. An interesting smell drew me to the dining room immediately, and I was greeted by the sight of a covered dish and card.

Back late, don’t wait up. Text me x

It briefly amused me that a high-level demon wanted a text message, something that seemed so archaic and grounded in normality. It saddened me that she was not here. I lifted the lid to see that she had cooked more pancakes, although they had gone cold by now. Probably didn’t expect me to be so long at the Org. The microwave would breathe some brief life into them, although they wouldn’t be as good.

My body slunk its way into the kitchen, and I popped the door in, and the near-silent plods of Wight's claws followed behind me.

“So...” The machine beeped and illuminated with purpose, and I turned to lean against the counter. “Where do we begin?”

[I think with the most pressing issue, Eric.]

I granted him a nod; that certainly made the most sense. In comparison to all other problems, the giant eldritch-

[What has happened since the Org took me?]

“Like going back to when I found you in the park?”

[I do not remember anything between the Saloon and when the Org recently reconfigured me.]

“Oh.” I scrunched up my face. “Well. I found you nearby in the form of a small bird, and Pearl and I - and Rodney, looked after you until the Org took you away. Uh, I did some off-the-books demon killing in the Lowers with Pearl. Rodney’s mother’s funeral is in two days. Just before I came to see you today, I accidentally fell into a Titan’s mouth.”

[Do you love her?]

“Huh? I barely knew the Titan.” The microwave dinged to announce that it had finished nuking the pancakes to a somewhat ideal temperature. Hopefully, Pearl would never find out about my barbarism.

[Do not play coy with me.]

I waved the fork in the air as I went past him into the dining room. “I think the more important thing is what the fuck was that rat thing, and what the fuck did I accept? Sorry for the language.”

[Understandable, that is a considerably measured response for what you witnessed.]

“It all seemed so surreal.” I dug a fork in and lifted out a chunk of warm pancake. “Normally spooky Hell stuff sends me off the deep end. But it all felt so… calm?”

[What do you think that means?]

“Are you asking because you want to hear my interpretation or because you do not know either?”

[I had hoped to be the most powerful entity in your life, Eric. Now there is the Pearl and the Unknown.]

“Pearl is more powerful than you?” I prodded at the plate. Maybe it was just a different type of power.

[Conventionally. The Formless and Ascended do not have set Levels like those on the more stable planes.]

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“But If you were powerful enough, you would have been able to hop onto the Higher Hells?”

He shrugged his feathered shoulders and pulled out a chair to sit opposite me. He was now around five feet, maybe a little shorter. It would take a little getting used to this form.

[Again, only the Org knows who or what I am.]

Halfway through the pancakes, I realized I had never put the kettle on to make coffee. “You wanna find out?”

[Yes.]

I looked around the room. Everything was as I had left it, just now in a muted shade of evening amber. “We’ll add it to our to-do list, then.”

He sat and watched me impassively before I paused.

“Oh, did you want the rest of the pancakes?”

[It would be a delight, thank you, Eric.]

I pushed the plate over, half expecting him to peck at it with his beak. Instead, he lifted the food with his small hands and fed it into his maw in one gulp.

[Those are good pan-cakes. I can’t wait to thank the Pearl.]

“Same,” I said, then frowned. “Odd point - but would you like to… move into the spare room?” I had noticed that his current form didn’t have the same tether to my arm as his mist one did.

[Although I do not necessarily require sleep, I shall feign the act so that you may have privacy.]

I took the plate from him and tipped it slightly in thanks. Very considerate of him, all things considered. “We are getting distracted again from the unholy rat god swallowing me and what that actually means.”

[Unfortunately, I do not know much about the gods or similar beings.]

Rodney might, but I didn’t want to bother him so close to the funeral. Maybe it was more selfish of me to coddle him like that rather than involve him in our troubles. I would ruminate on that - another pin in the page with large question marks upon it.

“How far can you actually go from me? Want to test something?”

[Okay.]

“My phone is in the bedroom on the side drawers, probably.”

Wight stared at me for a few seconds and then got up and walked up the stairs. He was an odd character and not that different from my cartoony version of him. I listened for his soft footfalls up the stairs, across the landing, and into the bedroom. A couple of seconds of silence, and then he walked back down to me.

[You were correct, I can walk that distance away from you.]

I held out my hand for the phone, but it seemed like he took the request more literally than I had anticipated. Resigning to the inevitable, I sighed.

“Pearl will stab me if I don’t clear this up, but I’m going to have a bath and let her know I’m not dead.” I stood and paused. “Just possibly cursed by an eldritch being.”

[Possibly.]

I placed the plate in the kitchen and then headed upstairs, pausing halfway as Wight continued to sit awkwardly alone at the table. “You can sit in my bedroom if you want to chat still?” Life sure had a way of making things bizarre.

[Thank you, Eric. I’m still getting used to my permanence.]

“It’s a good look for you… uh- the whole Saloon thing was pretty intense.”

[For you, too, you looked radiant.]

I smiled, knowing to take him literally, but I appreciated the sly compliment as well - even if it wasn’t intentional. “Yeah, I haven’t been able to do that since.”

[Alone against the Lowers? Unsurprising, as-]

“I need the darkness to shine the brightest or something, right?” I hung my jacket on the back of the chair in the bedroom and stretched my aching shoulders out.

[Something like that.]

“Thankfully, Pearl was there to put the pieces back together again. I was pretty ruined - as usual for our exploits.” I started to unbutton my dress shirt and walked into the en-suite as Wight sat on the edge of the bed.

[I assume you two are quite close now.]

“Yeah.” Perhaps the sordid details were better left unsaid - I’m sure he could read between the lines. I turned the taps off and put the plug in. The phone was in my hand; I must have grabbed it on the way through - odd for my memory to be so spotty. It illuminated to show no new messages. Sad Eric.

Org sent me to Hell. Back home now, alive and sane. Hope to see you soon.

My jaw worked, and my thumb hovered as I deliberated, adding a cross at the end of the message. There was still an emotional barrier part of me hid behind. I had accepted living and loving life, but part of me was still dirtied by it. Held me back.

[I approve, not that you require my approval.]

I sent the message and turned to check on the water level. Seemed fine, a little slow to fill, but perhaps I was being testy and impatient. Being mind fucked by immutable terrors can do that to you.

“Thanks, Wight. It’s… not horrible.” I felt like I needed to cling to those things that weren’t horrible. Even if it was all manipulation or something in the pancakes, if she had stitched my body back in a manner to dance like her puppet - well, it would be bliss until it wasn’t.

Wight was silent for a while, and I was briefly worried for him. Now that he was in a humanoid form, I found him more sympathetic - which seemed like a weakness of my human psyche, to only attribute proper emotion to something that looked like something recognizable.

“Are you alright, Wight?” I turned the taps off and stood to undress. “We’ve had a lot of things to be worried about lately.”

[Do you think we could go kill demons tomorrow, Eric?]

Like Pearl and I had been - he didn’t need to say that part. Jealousy was an odd but not entirely surprising emotion, considering he was a demon. He wanted a little classic Wight and Redd adventure where we killed demons and didn’t have to worry about anything other than surviving.

“Sure thing, Wight. That actually sounds nice.” Assuming my brain didn’t explode from my head, or I turned into an abomination overnight, that is.

I sunk my feet into the hot water and then slid down to relax.

Glad that for at least ten minutes, things would be okay.