You’re here.

Well almost. Currently, there is a door in the way. You know you’re in the right spot though. The one mind is behind the door and the string is going through it, shining brighter than ever.

Hmm. What to do? Should you knock? Simply open the door? Rip it off its hinges? Eat?

Honestly, you are kind of worried about meeting the Master. This has been your main goal for the past... How long have you been awake actually? Well you know you’ve been up for quite a while, physically at least. But then you-you has been only awake for at least an hour. Hells, with your amnesia you might have even forgotten some time that you’ve been awake.  

Answer the call, Oh Loyal Servant.

Yeah, yeah, you know already. Keep it simple. Keep it stupid. But not too stupid.

You knock. There isn’t a response for some time. Then a voice comes through.

Oh, does it not fill you with jubilation.

“Hello? Jerald is that you? I can’t seem to get this door open. Would you open it up for me?”

You obey.

You try turning the knob. No luck. Its lock. You keep turning it, a futile attempt clear as day after the few attempts. You try pulling and pushing next, see if it's just stuck. With the same unfortunate results.

Eliminate whatever obstacles lay before you.

Well. The simple way didn’t work. Time to do things the hard way.

You bring a fist slamming down on the doorknob. It shatters, breaking the locking mechanism in the process.

“Jerald! What are you doing!?”

You think it’s pretty obvious. She did ask you to open it, so you did the only way you knew how. With a push, the door opens, and you step through.

As your empty sockets land on your Master, you can’t help but carve every detail into your brain.

A small hellspawn, barely in her teens if her size and baby fat is anything to go by. Big caramel eyes framed by long curly black hair. Two curved ebony horns barely breaking past the chaotic mess on her head. A clear contrast against her deathly pale skin. Poking out behind her commoner’s clothing, her tail with a small bushy black tip can be seen.

Stolen story; please report.

Now, you wouldn’t know if you could call her cute or pretty, as such standards are beyond a skinless skeleton such as yourself. But you’d be damn if you’d allow any fool to besmirch your Master’s honor by saying otherwise. Unlikely as that would be, considering how intimidating of an appearance she sports.

Or she would have if she weren’t cowering in the corner.

Now, why would she be doing that? You did as she asked. Hmm. The possibility that may not have been the intended method. You would not have managed any other way, considering you lack the proper equipment and knowledge to lock pick the door.

Maybe you were meant to find a key? If that were the case, she would have clarified in her order. Mayhaps you were not the one intended to open said door? She did call this Jerald instead of yourself. Quite a blunder on your part if that is the case.

A worrying thought rockets through your mind.

Dear God’s, was she locked in here for her protection? A safety measure you just bypassed!? Hell’s might, not five minutes with your master and you’ve compromised her safety! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

As you stand there internally panicking, your Master finally speaks up.

“Is that my mom!? L-let her go!”

You obey.

You drop the woman, your Master’s mother. Thank the Gods you aren’t that tall. Otherwise, the fall would have hurt. Then again, her groan didn’t give any indication it was particularly soft ground either.

The Master appeared confused at your actions, still cowering.

“G-Get b-back!”

You obey.

You take a step backward. Her confusing look grows, seemingly in disbelief that you were listening. Once her eyes leave you and land on her mother, all fear and caution are dashed away.

“Mom!”

The master rushes forward, clearly worried about the woman on the floor. More than any potential harm that may come from approaching you. Not that you would ever hurt her, something that she does not appear to be aware of it would seem.

Not food.

Obviously. You’re heartless, not a savage. Eating your own Master. Ridiculous.

While your Master attempts to rouse her mother. You take the time to observe the pair. As you do, some facts come to light. It is very possible she isn’t a pure-blooded hellspawn. Her mother for comparison, some differences are clear to see.

“Mom, wake up!”

Her eyes and head are too large for her adolescent size. Ears are just that bit larger and sharper to be out of place on a hellspawn. Her figure is far more develop than has any right to be. Her skin holds a hint of goldin color, when in comparison to her mother’s pure snow skin tone.

If anything, she looks like a gnome with the aesthetic template of a hellspawn overlayed on top. The thought makes some bits of information click together.

Well damn. A gnome fucked a hellspawn. Brave fool. Or a weak fool. Don’t know the instigator. Not that it matters to you.

“Please!”

All that matters is the Master.

...And the realization you may have made some mistakes on the way here.

Honestly, you are rather surprised at what an unfortunate coincidence took place. Who knew the first mage you came across would be related to your Master? You’re only glad you didn’t kill her. Hate to have made that mistake.

Although with how hard it is to wake her up, you are only just lucky she’s tougher than she looks. Or maybe said luck is on her side rather than yours. Now let us hope The Master’s father is alive and well himself. He wasn’t dying last time you saw him on the floor, but that isn’t a guaranty.

You are really glad you did not take the opportunity to eat their brains as well.

“Mo-!”

Her words and your thoughts are interrupted by two shortswords breaking your ribcage as you’re backstabbed.