Cloudshade was a woman on a mission.

She did not think of herself as such, of course, for multiple reasons, but it did not change her purpose. A purpose Cloudshade was so focused on, she barely even questioned how she could see the world around her. Hadn't Oberon removed her eyes? Or had that been a hallucination born of pain? It mattered not, compared to her quest.

Firstly, she did not think of herself as a woman. Oh, she was female, yes, though she'd have ripped out anyone's tongue if they dared to refer to her as if she were an animal. Women were the counterparts of human men, and of the males whose species mankind surrounded itself with, pretending to live in harmony.

The very word was structured in such a manner that thee thought of it being applied to her nearly made her grind her teeth. "Woman"...a man with something? Without something? It baffled her that their females (humans were a species for which such labels worked much better), clamouring for equality as they had for a while now, called themselves a word so similar to "man".

But then, the same word was sometimes used to refer to the whole species, so...she was not surprised. Mankind, humanity...equality, yes. As if.

Cloudshade did not spare much thought for the fact that, if she'd felt better, she'd have never busied herself with something as trivial as language. Language was a construct of civilisation, that rotten, chimeric madness that made Cloudshade's blood boil long before she laid eyes on any example of it. The thought, and that it still existed, despite her people's noble efforts, was insulting enough.

But then, Oberon had broken her. Not completely, not enough to reduce her to a drooling, gibbering imbecile, but enough that she'd actually listened to him - King Seelie. The Cloudshade who had been could have never imagined obeying Oberon, even in her most insane moments.

And that wasn't even the most frustrating part! She didn't even remember what that godsdamned bastard had done to her.

He...he...no.

Oberon's torture (for what else could it have been?) might have twisted her into something resembling his spineless vassals, but that wasn't the most frustrating part of this ordeal. Not truly.

He'd demanded she go to the Silva strigoi and his pet bitch, and apologise. Her mission rankled, as much as the memory of the order, but she couldn't bring herself to stop and turn around, and not just because she knew Oberon would obliterate her the first chance he got, or far worse, give her to his wife.

If Titania was even a trillionth as bad as the rumours about her implied, Cloudshade would much rather face the corpse and his lizard. Queen Seelie was, allegedly, viciously obsessed with making sure no woman (there was that damned word again...) her husband spent even an instant focusing on influenced his behaviour in any way.

Cloudshade had never met the old sow, but she had a feeling Oberon using special tools to torture her had offended Titania, for some reason.

Still...

The Unseelie bit her lip as she strode towards the gaggle of hovels Silva called home. It had nothing to do with nervousness - it was just a way to stop gritting her teeth hard enough to crack them, which was annoying, regeneration or not. And not just because she was doing it unintentionally.

Sadly, King Seelie's attention had reduced her once full lower lip to a thin, ragged strip of flesh, barely enough to cover the bottom of her teeth. The iron implements' touch meant the Fae had to struggle just to reach her lower lip with her upper teeth, and her rickety jaw didn't appreciate the motion. An iron hammer had left it half-shattered, and the ache flared every time she bit her lip, as if in protest.

Worse, the taste of her own blood seemed to irk her. Cloudshade's vitae resembled lead in terms of taste rather than copper, unlike the thin sludge that ran through human veins. Whenever blood toucher her tongue, Cloudshade felt her nostrils flare, and her jaw clench, almost reluctantly, until her teeth shattered against each other, only to heal.

It was the reminder of the torture, she told herself. That she'd been disfigured using artifice, and by King Seelie at that, hurt more than the mutilation itself ever would. It had nothing to do with her blood triggering some sort of brutish reflex. If Oberon had done something to make her bite herself, like some animal trying to escape a trap, and the process had made her react to her blood like this, she was sure she'd have remembered.

It was better than believing the opposite. More...reassuring.

Cloudshade smile humourlessly, an expression that did her almost lipless face no favours. She was sure most humans would've gasped, at least, at the sight of her, but she'd seen none so far. No patrols of the slave-minders they called law enforcement (as if there was any law besides do as thou wilt...), much less any of their disgusting settlements.

Cloudshade stopped, pulling her bland, shapeless garments tighter around herself. None of their vehicles, either? No aircraft above? She knew Oberon had opened a portal in such a location she could reach her destination with minimal fuss, in his own words - he hadn't trusted her to leave using her own powers over spacetime -, but the Fae knew Earth should have been busier than this. Even this stretch of countryside in a backwater nation.

Had King Seelie sent her to some wasteland? But that made no sense. Even at the relatively leisurely pace she'd been instructed (instructed! Her!) to follow "so as not to attract undue attention", she should have spotted something, with her senses.

Had Oberon tricked her into thinking he'd let her go, then? Was she actually in another chamber of his torture dungeon? This was clearly a subtler form of torment, as she hadn't been harmed yet, her tics aside. The pompous ape probably though he was being clever.

Cloudshade had only started contemplating a setup when a yellow-orange missile slammed into her from above, flattening her without so much as stirring a pebble on the lonely road. Mia knew her own strength well enough not to affect anything beyond the target of her ire.

The Unseelie rose on all fours, but a yamadium-toed combat boot crushed her face back into the road. If Cloudshade hadn't managed to glimpse her assailant, the weight and the odd shape of the boot, made to fit a zmeu, would have confirmed her suspicions. Mia had tried to stomp her to death in her first encounter, though that attempt had been less effective.

The ARC agent then placed something around her wrists that felt like handcuffs, and Cloudshade almost scoffed out loud. She might have been doing Oberon's bidding, but she was not going to humiliate herself more than necessary. She was an agent of cleansing destruction, tearing away the farce the wicked had plastered over the face of nature. The whore above her had no right to treat her like this, no matter what her lords and masters had trained her to do when seeing her betters.

The Fae thought about unmaking the restraints, but, instead of falling apart, they merely sent out something that felt like a pressure behind Cloudshade's eyes, and reality stayed the same.

Mia retracted her boot, allowing Cloudshade to speak. 'What are you doing to me?' she asked, turning over to glare up at the younger woman.

The zmeu's smile was as cheerful as her earlier one had been, and showed more teeth. 'We don't exactly have anything like antimagic or psilencers for most reality warpers, but we can counter the effects even if we can't turn off the source. Pretty nifty if ya ask me. Do you like it?'

Cloudshade managed a more genuine smile this time, though it was still close to a sneer. 'Strange to hear you say you cannot turn me off, but yes, 'tis an interesting trinket.'

Mia matched her expression. 'Oh, cute. Look who's learning some slang. You almost sound like a person! Yeah, I'm sure I turn you off, Shade. No ears, no nose, no hair, and I look like a dragon fucked a bodybuilder. Don't worry, I'd rather be loved than pretty and rotten like you...well. Looks like you'll have to settle for rotten.' The zmeu's voice, already resembling a lioness' growl, dropped as she laughed, which sounded like a series of cannon shots. 'Ahh...I'm not sure whether I wanna hug whoever rearranged your mug, or smack 'em for stealing my thunder. You look a helluva lot better now, by the way.'

'Thank you,' the Fae sneered. 'I'll be sure to send Oberon your regards.'

'Oh, he did this?' Mia scratched her head, tugging at one of her crest's spikes, while her other hand cupped her chin. 'Guess I could thank even him...before I bite his throat out. Seems like he hates your guts almost as much as I do.'

Cloudshade shook her head, biting back a comment. 'Regardless of how you feel about me, I am here at King Seelie's behest-'

'Oh, bull...' Mia interrupted, but trailed off, eyes narrowing, as if listening to something Cloudshade could not hear. 'Huh,' she grunted. 'Guess he did, eh?' The zmeu nodded. 'Goddamn, if I'd known Oberon could make you monsters do anything good, I'd have suggested handing you over to him long ago. Maybe we'd have got some goodwill and convinced him and his toadies to stop stealing kids. Guess we'll never know...' Mia's uniformed shoulders rose in a shrug as she smirked sardonically. 'Gotta ask the postcogs next chance I get. 'Not that it matters now. You're all done.'

Cloudshade's breath whistled through her teeth. 'That is one way to look at it,' she said, trying to keep her voice level. 'Now, if I may inform you of my purpose here...?'

'I'm pretty confused about that, yeah. I mean, the hole you should crawl and die in is all the way over there,' Mia said, pointing to a spot behind the bound Fae. Not waiting for a response, the zmeu kicked out, nearly twisting Cloudshade's neck backwards. A slap finished the process.

The Fae seethed. She knew Mia could've just kicked her head all the way around - the slap had been pure spite. As her neck and bones realigned, Cloudshade tried not to spit at the overgrown maggot that had left a red imprint on her sunken cheek, along with five claw marks.

Smiling down at her, Mia placed her boots on the Fae's legs, before squatting down, crushing bone under her boots. Cloudshade made no sound as her thighs were reduced to crimson paste and bone gravel, making her fall on her back, hands trapped under her. She tried to shapeshift and slip out of the cuffs, but the contraption generated some sort of forcefield that gripped her flesh and kept it in its original shape.

Tch. Not clever, but effective. They could not simply nullify her dominion over existence, much less her own body, but they could counteract it with brute force. Much like the reptile above her was doing for her already awful mood.

'Don't try to get away~' Mia said in an infantilising tone, wagging a clawed finger in the Fae's face. 'This is your last day alive! You don't want it to last much longer, do you?'

'You cannot kill me!' Cloudshade screamed. 'I...I am here to make amends! Listen to me: I was sent by Oberon, who believes you and your lover seek satisfaction. He ordered me to remain after the apology and do whatever you two command, if that is what you wish.'

'It's not,' Mia replied bluntly. 'And I don't see which part of that is supposed to mean I can't shove your head up your arse and throw you into a pool of molten iron.'

Cloudshade gulped, in outrage rather than fear, at the mental image. How dare this thing... 'I must fulfill Oberon's order. Whatever your feelings, I must apologise to you. You cannot end my life yet.'

'Aww! I can't kill you cuz we're not friends yet? Look at that!' Mia put her hands on her hips. 'You have no right to sound so hoity-toity while begging. You have no right to beg. How many families pleaded for lives that actually mattered before you stitched them together?'

Despite herself, Cloudshade chuckled hollowly. 'First, you imply I am not a person. Now, that my life has no meaning...'

'Feeling's mutual, I'm sure.' Mia frowned. 'It doesn't matter to me, no. What is a life dedicated to tearing down what other people build? Meaningful?' The zmeu huffed. 'You're less than nothing. And yet, look at me, bantering with a terrorist...'

Living iron replaced Mia's flesh up to her elbows as he grabbed Cloudshade's throat, her touch searing the Fae's skin. 'Wait! Wait, Mia. I am so-'

'No, you're not. You're sorry we stopped you.' Mia's grasp tightened. 'You're feeling sorry for yourself, because this happened to you. But there's no room in that heart for regret.' The agent's fanged grin returned. 'Guess I'm not "zmeu" anymore, huh? What do you think using my name will make me do? Tear you to shreds faster?'

Cloudshade gasped as iron claws began parting the flesh of her neck, rivulets of dark blood making their way to her chest. 'L-Listen to me!' the Fae sputtered. 'I must...' but why did she feel this need? Oberon couldn't have placed some spell on her, to bend her to his will. Unseelie, like many paranormal beings, were immune to such alterations.

King Seelie must have done something else to her, something she couldn't remember, and which had obviously instilled this need in her by purely mundane means.

It couldn't have been her guilt talking. Of that much, she was certain. Like the musclebound cow crushing her had said, there was no room for regret in her.

'What...what do you want me to say?' Cloudshade burbled between gasps, her large, inky black eyes boring into the zmeu's crimson ones.

In response, Mia carefully cradled one side of the Fae's face with an iron hand. It would have been almost tender, if not for the burning sensation the touch caused. 'Your eyes are like David's,' the zmeu said, sounding pensive, before nodding to herself. 'You do not deserve them.'

Faster than she could react, Mia grabbed her eyes between her claw tips and pulled. If not for the pain tolerance widespread among paranormal beings, Cloudshade's shriek would have been of agony, rather than anger.

Before she could find her words, however, it hit her.

Her eyes? What eyes...?

Oberon had removed them, during his clumsy attempts to torment her. Hadn't he?

But she'd been so relieved at the chance to finally appease the ridiculous fool that she hadn't questioned how she was able to see again. New eyes could not have been grown by paranormal means, not when her first ones had been removed though iron, and she was fairly sure there weren't any alternatives.

Was she going mad? Or had she imagined...but what had she imagined? Losing her sight then? Or having it until now?

Cloudshade stopped screaming, drawing in a breath she did not need, as she felt Mia dangle something in front of her. Judging by the air disturbance...yes, it felt like her eyeballs.

Tch. Impudent child. She did not even have the skill to mangle the Fae's body properly, but what could you expect from a leathery winged ape?

A burning backhand smashed her head into the ground, before the zmeu leaned closer, so that her mouth was next to her ear. 'I caught that, you know. And every snippy little remark you made in that head of yours.' At the Unseelie's grimace, the zmeu made a derisive sound. 'Don't look so surprised. You think you're entitled to surface thoughts? Please.'

Mia stood up, almost turning the Fae over with a kick. With how it burned, she must've turned her boots to iron, too. But why all this grandstanding?

'You asked what I want you to say? Nothing, you moron. If you scream yourself hoarse before you die, it'll be enough for me. You think I'm the stupid animal, but you believed there was any chance David or I would ever give a shit for your excuses? Oberon knew this was pointless. Wake the hell up: he sent you to die.' There was a rasping sound, which made Cloudshade think the zmeu was licking her fangs. 'Why else do you think you made any progress instead of catching an iron spike through the skull as soon as you showed up? The Fae can't operate on Earth without advanced warning anymore...not that they were supposed to before. But we've got them by the balls now. This was all arranged, trust me - and you walked right into it, as stupid as you believed everyone you've slaughtered to have been.'

Mia's voice broke a little there, but not as if she wanted to cry. More like she was holding herself back from screaming in rage. if Cloudshade could've got her face to work properly, she'd have smirked coldly at the hypocrite. For all that she and her ilk bleated about being civilised and defending their putrid realms, they were chomping at the bit to destroy those they hated, like everyone and everything was.

'And you can fuck right off with that bullshit,' Mia said tersely, her anger turning as cold as her voice. 'You saw the world was having a happy moment, and thought "damn, but wouldn't it be great if we crushed that wilted flower of joy this stupid little holiday brings them?". You wanted to destroy the world as we know it, and why? Because you anarchist sons of bitches can't keep your hatred to yourselves?' The zmeu pushed a cold hand into Cloudshade's back, iron claws gripping the Fae's spine. 'Sometimes, I wonder if you're wired that way, or if you're just jealous we have better things to do than beat each other to death the moment we look more organised than an ape troop.'

'They are nothing without these lies,' Cloudshade hissed. 'Take away their baubles, and the humans you coddle would be alone, and naked, and afraid.'

'Unlike you, who are so strong without anything to aid you?' Mia asked drily. 'Well, you're in luck. I could've killed you in that first hit, but I think the cuffs have added some insult to injury, hmm? If might makes right, there shouldn't be any problem. I think that, by now, you've come to grips with the fact that idea starts to suck balls after you run into someone stronger than you.' A cold hand, covered in the Fae's hot, steaming blood, lifted her by the throat. 'Don't worry about not meeting David. I promise, you'll be seeing him every day left of your eternity.'

A contemptuous chuckle was the last thing Cloudshade heard before a fist smashed through her skull, silencing the world alongside every voice in her head.

* * *

I managed not to show any fangs as I frowned at Cloudshade's soul. The trapped spirit hadn't prayed to any gods, and had only praised herself. Something I was grateful for, if only because it had brought her to me after death.

Mia leaned against me, crouching a little to rest her chin on top of my head as she hugged me from behind. I grabbed one of her wrists and squeezed, feeling her smile and beginning to do so myself. Cloudshade's soul was coherent enough she would say whatever was on her mind the instant I let up. There was no chance of her losing her mind, so I let her spend some more time in a sphere of spikes and the storm of blades it contained, until I felt she'd been through a fraction of the pain she had put so many innocents through.

Mia let go, rubbing my shoulders as I turned away and began to walk the section of the aether were so many souls were imprisoned. To her, it must have appeared like a network of prison cells or the like, ever-growing as more damned were added to it.

The Fivefold and I might have agreed on many things, but I wasn't sure about her dreams if she became Queen of Hell. A finite life can't be cause for infinite punishment, yes...it sounded good, until you met some of the people I had here. It wasn't just the Christian in me (dunno how the guy got in there. Swear I'm straight as an ostrich's neck, officer...) talking, but some days, the idea of any punishment being enough for would-be genocidal headcases like Cloudshade, who wasn't even in my top ten trillion monsters, felt almost as ridiculous as that of them repenting, or redeeming themselves.

It's easy, isn't it? my strigoi side whispered. Thinking that they're only going to pretend they regret, out of self-interest? Beg for forgiveness or do as we say to spare themselves the pain?

I didn't answer the rhetorical questions, which made it chuckle softly.

Of course, that's not what's upsets you, is it, human? Not the evil in heart of LIFE's castoffs, but the fact that, even if you hated someone for their past deeds, you'd have to give them a chance to perform good works if they endured their punishment and wanted to be better.

Why are you saying it like I'd only do it grudgingly?

How could it be any other way? my worse half asked, sounding amused. I'm not saying you're going to take them to a paradise and plop them down in the lap of luxury, David. You'd keep an eye of them forever, yes, we'd never let them out of our sight, yes...but if they truly suffered and wanted to remake themselves, even if it meant doing as you say forever, you couldn't deny them.

That wasn't actually one of my duties as DEATH's Keeper, but my instincts meant something else. It's not up to me to deny someone the chance to make it up to everyone they've wronged.

Its laugh was like tombstones grinding together. That dead, bleeding heart wouldn't allow it, no. It must be so disappointing that you don't have it in you to play Devil, isn't it? Now that you can, you don't want to anymore. It's like that saying about giving power to those who want it least.

I sighed, filling my mindscape with a cold mist. Having everyone cower and weep at the thought of what you might do does not warm my heart.

You could even say learning that was the nail in the coffin. Fixer knew what he was doing. There was a grudging respect in its voice, and I found I could not quite disagree. Ned's purpose had been to repair and reshape creation and its contents so it could go on. Maintenance, and nothing more. Manipulating events to make me the Keeper I was now had been outside his purview, but it hadn't been a bad choice, looking at my predecessors.

And his plan to wake the Unmoved Mover? Even more so. Ned had wanted the Mover to wake up, but preserve creation so it could be left in the care of an effectively almighty being. Of course, keeping things chugging along would have been part of his duty, even if it meant defying omnipotence as it awakened and risked unknowingly bringing everything into oblivion.

When we met before I gave Ned his new duty, he confessed what he had been working towards, and that he did not have a way to prevent the Mover from forgetting us, or turning out to be evil and doing worse. He had wanted, and still did, to achieve macrocosmic harmony, so that everyone could become like the Mover.

So, I'd gambled. I'd given God, for all intents and purposes, the best existence had to offer. Not power; the thought of impressing the Mover with that made me laugh. Power was the one thing you could not accuse it of not having. You could have pointed at the various mimics and power copiers in creation and asked why they didn't just turn into the Mover, but you had to remember Starlight Crowned With Ivory was the type of being that could make a boulder too heavy too lift, then beat you to death with it anyway. Little things like logic, paradoxes and other creations of its did not apply.

And the Mover had been, if not impressed, then pleased. Everyone working together? Good. Very good.

"My son," it had told me during one of our discussions, seeing I was brooding, "I know what lays heavy upon your soul. Rejoice! For it is not something to look down upon your fellows for."

It had been referring to my doubts, I suppose you could call them. Yes, Sofia and Grey and I had reached out to everyone in a timeless moment, and explained how destruction threatened everything, told them we had a possible solution and tried to assuage their fears.

But how much of that cooperation had been born out of genuine desire to help everyone, as opposed to self-preservation?

"That is not something worthy of contempt," the Mover had told me, as close to stern as it ever sounded. "Indeed, it would be more contemptible to lie down and die in the face of oblivion. Is it not commendable to wish to live when threatened with such destruction, even for one's own sake? I say it is. It is a worthier endeavour than refusing to help because of some blinkered set of ideals."

A shadow had passed over its face, which had become slightly sad. "I understand that you wish everyone was noble, David. I do, too. But my children, your fellows, are not at that stage yet. Not all of them. The moment of unity you caused is proof of their potential to be better, but even then, there were voices who rose against harmony."

The Black God, and the Crawling Chaos. But I didn't mention them. Instead, I asked, "Why do you call me your son?"

Its wistful expression had almost disappeared, a side of its mouth rising. "Because you are, of course! Are you not part of the creation I dreamed into being? You, and all those tied to it, are my children, whatever the relations between yourselves."

If it had started rambling, I thought, I might as well go all the way with the questions. "Are you God, then?"

A soft laugh. "That depends entirely on what you mean, David. I am the most powerful being there is, yes, and the overseer of all that is. I do not allow anything I disapprove of to go on for long, so you can say I am the arbiter of morality, too. So, yes, I am God, David." Its smile had become brighter, though smaller. "If you wish."

"Then the deities so many pray to? The supreme beings of various faiths? Are they you, assuming different roles? Parts of you?"

"Perspective, my son," it had said quietly, like it was reminding me. "When creation and my mind were one and the same - for, believe me, they no longer are - everyone was 'part of me'. Now that said bond has been severed...look at it this way: if you cut off a finger, and it kept thinking, not necessarily like you do, would it be a different being?"

I nodded, understanding what it was getting at. "But since you are so powerful, isn't creation still fictional to you? As easy to unmake as it is for a human to forget something? Don't your thoughts define what is real - and if yes, how can there be anything separate from you?"

"Ah - that is the dilemma of the reality warper. I, for one, would say that anything that can stand on its own, without my intervention, is real." I'd got the feeling it had wanted to roll its eyes, or whatever dignified alternative supreme beings went for. "Of course, you will meet people who say everything is a simulation you can only escape by doing what they say, which usually involves payment and favours you'd rather not give and do, respectively."

Though I'd felt no hostility from it, I'd thought it better to make sure. "Am I bothering you? I can leave."

"Oh, no, no!" It had waved both hands. "Just thinking how little sense some of my once-dreams make. And this phenomenon is not limited to my creation either, you know. I like to think the other Makers are not imitating my former Dream's flaws. Intentionally, I mean."

I hadn't scowled deeply at that. My face just sort of moved downwards when I heard about stuff I dislike. "I gotta ask 'bout that, too. If you wouldn't mind."

"Certainly!"

...It would certainly answer? Or, it would certainly mind? Or, not mind? Or-

I liked it better when my pessimism didn't talk unprompted, I told said chatterbox. "Right." Inhaling, I'd tried to smile wryly, which, I've been told, makes me look like a curious serial killer. "I suppose you get asked about the Problem of Evil and all that all day, every day, right?"

"Trust me, David: people will appreciate the power that comes with being a Maker better if they ascend on their own."

"But couldn't you make it so things have always been swell, and just have people know they could've been bad?"

"I could, yes. But you might as well ask why Earth's inhabitants don't remake its timeline. You know I took pains to make sure your development was not stifled by petty paranormal despots - why do you think paranormal beings used to be unable to even be perceived by humans unless they were believed to be real? Why do you think they only used to be able to do what folklore indicated they could?"

"And because of this barrier, many did not even try to make things better for those they were able to interact with," I'd retorted mildly.

The Mover had made a dismissive gesture. "Tellus still complains about that, but just because she arranged for my barrier to be torn down, it does not mean she doesn't appreciate what said bulwark prevented. You can go ask her son."

I'd nodded. Italy's senior Scion agent had, if anything, become busier after things had quieted down, but I wasn't surprised. The Tellurian Titan, like the Golden Guardian who ran External Affairs in Japan, had always loved creating good things far more than striking down those who destroyed them. Titan would likely appreciate talking with someone who didn't work under him and wasn't Elsbeth. If nothing else, it would prevent him from, in his own words, sounding too much like a hippie while thinking about the world's beauty out loud.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

However, I could take care of that on my own time. It wasn't really pressing, unlike what had been eating at me. "The boon you gave me," I'd said, leaning forward, "makes me able to do anything it takes to keep creation safe." I'd have liked to think that, between my powers as Keeper and the weapons of the Neverwere Vaults, another power that could make up new ones and endlessly boost me would have been redundant, but I knew better.

At first, I'd thought the flare of holy energy I'd received from the Mover had been meant to merely alter my being, so that I could receive my Keeper powers. But it had stayed, growing alongside them in an instant that had lasted forever, until they had become intertwined. Like a helix, defining my being as much as DNA defined a human.

"Quite," the Mover had said. "Any invader you stand against might as well be facing me."

"What about the other Creators? From your city?"

"Them? You can stand against them too, David. Turn them away, and more, if necessary. I saw to that. You would hardly be the first Keeper mighty enough to crush them into endless sleep." Its eyes had become hollow and faraway at the last words, which I hadn't liked.

"Arvhek was nothing that could be called a Keeper by the time he rampaged through your city." I'd felt his indulgent smile right then, making me grimace. "And his power is nothing like what you gave me, except in scale."

"Perhaps, my son," it had replied, its distant gaze becoming clearer. "But his grief is much like what almost pushed you to let everything wither."

I'd snorter. "No, it's not. I thought I'd lost my family, but Arv's is never coming back. And it's not like DEATH talked him into staying his hand by appealing to his kindness." Listening to me, you'd have thought I knew what it had appealed to, as opposed to merely what it hadn't. It'd been impressive, anyway, considering it had dropped the ball preparing Arvhek even worse than it had with me, which was saying something. Ned hadn't confirmed anything, but I thought Arv had been the reason he'd chosen to direct my training.

At that, the Unmoved Mover had become distant again, and I'd changed the subject, or rather, returned to the previous one. It, much like being flayed alive while gargling acid, beat talking about Arvhek. "That wasn't what I meant about the Makers, though. I'll stop them if they threaten our creation." I'd frowned at it. "You should've let me take care of that smug bastard who tried erasing everything. It's one of my jobs."

"You could've defeated it as easily as I did, David, yes; but you aren't siblings. That...was a matter of family." Sounding darkly amused, the Mover had added, "Children so often feel jealous when their elder siblings make friends outside the family. Your intervention would have merely fed its spite, so I chose to deal with it myself."

I'd conceded that point, seeing no reason to continue the discussion. I wouldn't have taken kindly to the Mover stepping in between me and Andrei, for example. "I suppose. But what if the next mad Maker isn't focused on our creation? What if it's tormenting its own, creating people just to hurt them?"

"Are you supposed to just stand by?...Is what you wanted to ask." The Mover had smiled. "Are you, David? I think you have some experience with a couple of people like that, hmm?"

We'd talked about more, and still do. Most people who want to talk to the Almighty do so because they don't know what it's like, but it offers you certain...insights.

Deciding I'd wasted enough time reminiscing - not that any had actually passed - I looked back at Mia, who was thoughtfully looking at the shredded web of spirit that was Cloudshade, arms crossed. I moved closer to her, a quick application of my power taking care of the half-metre heigh difference between us, allowing me to place a chaste kiss on her full lips. 'What's with that face? You look like you've seen a ghost,' I joked lamely, glad we were at that stage where she loved me too much to ditch me for being a giant dork.

It's never too late, if you ask me-

That's why I don't, I told my mental roommate tightly, cupping one of Mia's cheeks. Returning my expression, she grabbed my wrist, holding me in place, then pulling me closer with her other arm. I hovered, to spare Mia the bother of having to hold me at eye level, not that it stopped her from wrapping her arms around my torso.

Her tongue easily wrapped around mine, being several times longer and considerably thicker, which was useful for far more than kissing. Her eyes were hooded, caught halfway through one of her horizontal blinks, and she was beaming, showing a glimpse of her knifelike ivory fangs, cheeks glowing with inner fire. Then, looking in my eyes, she said, 'We need to talk.'

Welp. I'd say it was nice knowing you, David, but I hope to become senile as far as you're concerned-

For a guy who refers to her as our lioness, you're sure a pussy when it comes to anything more serious than sex.

I am not, my strigoi side glowered, the liar. And you're fucked, by the way.

You wish. That would be an excuse to keep your mouth shut, which is the opposite of what Mia wants.

It rolled its eyes. Our mouth has better uses when we're servicing her, genius. Though I suppose you might've forgot that, with how excited you get.

Its voice became almost gentle at the end, as did its expression, to my slight surprise. I'm always paying attention, ink spot. Now, are you done wringing your hands about the Scary Girlfriend Phrase, or should I call the waaahmbulance?

They're still looking for you since you escaped, huh? You might as well come up with a plan to hide. I don't think our zmeu wants to make love. My worse half had a certain, heh, tenderness when it came to Mia, its usual contrarian attitude fading like morning dew to be replaced with an eagerness to please her. With how enthusiastic it was to be put on a leash by her, sometimes even metaphorically, it had almost been disappointed to learn Mia was actually a switch, which meant we topped half...alright, one-third of the time.

Yeah, I gathered. That's not exactly her "gonna multitask while banging you like my shin on a coffee table" face. I squeezed its shoulder. Don't worry, man. We're gonna pull through, no matter what.

Ahem - phrasing. Are we still doing that?

Archer still wants to know, huh? Tell him to piss off. I'm not getting badgered by a guy who calls himself "Duchess".

'Sure,' I told Mia. Then, in a lighter tone, 'Shouldn't we go to a landfill first if you're gonna dump me, though?'

Her eyes softened, before she blew out a breath tinged with fire. 'Don't be silly, David. I just wanted to talk about what's happened until now. I know your brain ain't rotten enough to think anything will ever do us part.'

Aww~

Calm down, you're gonna get the vapours. 'Thought you wanted more time to mull it over, or I'd have suggested doing it sooner. Sorry.'

' 's no prob.' She nodded at Cloudshade's cell. 'Wanna hear her out before we go?'

'That's a roundabout way of suggesting a threesome...' I muttered, rubbing my chin and ignoring Mia's tail as it lightly slapped the top of my head. 'I know, I know, bad joke. Hate the bitch too, but you know I run my mouth when dealing with stuff I'd rather not.' I ran a hand through my hair, remembering Mia's face last time she'd ruffled it and I'd pulled out a comb.

"A real man is always prepared to spruce up," I'd grunted in my best cigar-chomper impression.

"Why'd you steal it, then?" my zmeu had asked, sounding fascinated as she'd steepled her fingers.

"Envy! Envy, woman! I am a jealous soul!"

'She doesn't really have much left to tell,' I said, indicating Cloudshade with a shoulder as I returned my attention to the present, inasmuch as such concepts applied to me. The Fae indeed didn't. She'd been honest, if nothing: said Oberon had ordered her to apologise for trying to ruin what Mia and I had, which had been better than the insincere apology that had followed.

I could tell she was as unrepentant about that as she was about the attempted genocide. In her eyes, anyone who didn't live in a cave and ate insects was vermin, and it was her right, duty and pleasure to torment such pests as badly and long as she wanted, which almost always overlapped.

I doubted even Christine would've let her go, at least anytime soon. Even leaving aside the attempted rape.

"Because that's what you threatened me with, you sow!" Mia had growled at the incorporeal Fae, claws making the otherwise-intangible substance of the Unseelie's cage screech upon contact. "You were gonna have David and break me if that's what it took to stop me from ruining your fun - remember? And you knew he wouldn't have accepted even if he wasn't mine, but you didn't care about his consent either. What did it matter? He was one more parasite coddled by civilisation, only worth anything because he got you hot and bothered."

Mia's glare had persisted as she'd turned to me, though her ire had been entirely directed at the Fae. I'd hugged her as tightly as I could without hurting her, reminding her nothing would take us from each other. It'd been among the things I'd made the Mover swear.

"I will fulfill any wish you have, my son - besides taking the chance to grow away from my children. But I know you do not truly want that, anyway, even if you think you do," had been its response.

'Actually, I was suggesting she might be interested in asking you to spare her, provided she tries to become better.'

I shot Mia a bemused, disbelieving look. 'I know you usually need to write what you mean on a bat and smack me with it before you can get anything through my skull, but - are you serious?'

Mia looked displeased as she answered. 'You know you'd have to do it. You promised yourself. She can rot in there forever, as far as I'm concerned, but you care about these scumbags.'

'Don't misunderstand - I don't care about them. And my newest guest hasn't even felt a fraction of the pain she's inflicted, much less of that she intended to. She might get a chance to make creation a better place, but only after.'

* * *

Cloudshade tried to scream her hatred at her jailer and his pet as they departed. She knew David was not far away: he could easily create as many bodies as he wanted, not that he needed them to exert his will over creation. That wasn't what stopped her.

It was the bloody - literally, and wasn't that ridiculous? She remembered having blood, so her ectoplasmic corpus was filled with something like it - blades that kept shredding her. They were made of hateful iron, which hurt because she remembered it did. Cloudshade, who had never regretted anything, had never thought she would ever end up loathing her memories.

At that thought, a grating, mocking laughter filled both her mind and her surroundings. It wasn't Silva, or one of his puppet-bodies come to gloat over her, though. It was his patron.

Its ridged form was studded with barbed spikes, seeming to have no end or beginning, just as it had no shape. Like a tide of molten iron (the ghost's form quivered angrily as she remembered the brutish zmeu's threat), rising tall as forever to surround her oubliette.

For a moment, Cloudshade glimpsed a black-robed silhouette clutching a wicked scythe, its pale visage staring at the core of her soul, seeing all and forgiving nothing. Then, the image was gone, and the iron colossus was back, leering though faceless, spinning around her trapped form like a snake.

CLOUDSHADE OF THE UNSEELIE. YOUR INANE PLAN WOULD HAVE UPSET COUNTLESS PREPARATIONS, AND PLUNGED EVRYTHING YOU HATE AND HOLD DEAR INTO ENDLESS NOTHINGNESS - FOR YOU WOULD HAVE SHATTERED THE HEART OF MY KEEPER, BY BRINGING HIS LOVER LOW. THAT IS NOT THE REASON YOU ARE HERE...BUT IT ADDS TO YOUR ATROCITIES, AND THEY LAY HEAVY IN THE BALANCE AS IS. THERE CAN BE NO MERCY FOR YOU; THERE MUST BE NONE.

DEATH voice lowered as it finished its proclamation, but its following words somehow boomed, echoing in the Fae's mind. I SEE MY KEEPER HAS TREATED YOU WITH GLOVES. DO NOT BE SURPRISED: HE IS KINDER THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN. I WILL BE SURE TO THANK HIM NEXT TIME WE SPEAK, FOR...PREPARING YOU. A sound like a knife cutting open old leather followed. I HAVE ALREADY GIVEN HIM MY DEMESNE AND MY ARSENAL. I MIGHT AS WELL GIFT HIM THE PAIN OF SHE WHO SLIGHTED HIS LADY IN FLAMES. SCREAM, IF YOU THINK IT IS A GOOD IDEA.

As the raw, undiluted pain that was the essence of the Fae's aversion to iron, and every time it had ever manifested and would ever manifest lanced through Cloudshade's being as too-real memories and visions, she remembered what Oberon had done to her, too, and shame disgust and hatred at herself joined agony in an aether-rending shriek. 'AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH-'

I AM FLATTERED THAT YOU LOVE MY PLAN SO MUCH, DEATH chuckled.

* * *

'I wanna talk to Costi about this, too,' Mia began as she sat down on a bed I'd created in one of DEATH Keep's endless rooms. If she wanted to clear the air, the least I could do was help her get comfortable. 'But...after we set things straight. Between us.' Her eyes were pleading and wide, which made me spread my hands as I stood before her.

'Anything you need to say, I'm here, love,' I promised, noticing the way she was practically silently begging me to hear her out. I'd have been somewhat hurt, in the past, but I now knew how reckless I could get when angry, so I didn't blame her for her caution. Even if the thought of hurting her in any way made my dead insides churn, and my strigoi side seethe.

Mia nodded, grateful, before patting the bed next to her. I appeared at her side, clasping my hands as I looked up at her. Then, thinking better, I slung an arm over her broad shoulders, pulling her close to me. 'Whenever you're ready,' I reminded her.

Mia rubbed her face, starting from the slit-like nostrils she had in place of a nose, before paling her whole face as she hung her head slightly. I was struck by how human she looked. Despite the fangs, the snakelike eyes and the lack of ears, Mia resembled a human, at least in my eyes, much more than I did, and was more beautiful than most. But, hell, she'd have looked more human than me even if she'd had a muzzle instead of a humanlike mouth, not to mention hotter. I just had one of those faces.

'Just to be clear: I'm not saying our relationship's isn't gonna get better. Just that I'm surprised it's worked well so far.'

'Thank...you?' I ventured, getting her to smile behind her hand. before she lowered it. Mia was still in her ARC uniform, a pair of combat pants, boots and black turtleneck with the flaming shield symbol of the Drake division marked in white over her heart. The clothes had been modified to accommodate her wings and tail, which moved slightly behind her, passing through subtle openings in the back of her sweater and trousers.

You sure they modified the uniform for her tail and not that ass? my worse half muttered, latching onto my comment.

Quiet, you, I told it, not trying to hide my smile. Mia took it as further encouragement, because she resumed talking.

'I guess we should start with the elephant in the room, right?'

'That's a roundabout way of su-'

'Nuh-uh,' my girlfriend said, playfully punching my shoulder. 'You already used that one.'

That's one thing you never tell me in bed, I thought. 'Whatcha mean, nuh-uh?'

'Nuh-uh, David. Stop recycling old stuff. That's my job.'

'Alright,' I said. The banter was a sign things weren't that bad (said every guy who then ended up in the doghouse). 'So...this big problem.'

Mia met my eyes with an effort, and damn if that didn't make me check myself. What had she seen on my face to make her uncomfortable about anything? 'I haven't been with anyone else yet,' she said, voice hoarser than usual. 'And I know you said you don't mind. That's a relief, sweetie, I promise - but I still feel like I'm gonna hurt you when it happens.'

Oh, that was it. I was gonna sound like a patronising shithead if I told her she was too great to worry about that crap, but it was the truth. 'I mean...what do you want me to say?' I looked aside, lips pulling back from my fangs. 'I'm pissed I can't please you all the time, and I'll never not be. That's just what I'm like.' I looked back at her, meeting her ruby gaze. 'But you'll never have to worry about me loving you less or, God forbid, lashing out at you, Mia. So you can lay that fear to rest. I can handle it.'

Mia hugged me close to her broad chest, leaning forward to whisper into my ear. 'I know it must look ridiculous from outside. Everyone sleeping with a zmeu has to go through...tch. Not everyone,' her eyes darkened, 'but most of them.'

'Mia - you know I hate giving you orders, but I'm going to repeat myself: I'm not going to let you change what you are because you're afraid you might offend me. Is that clear? There's no need, and I don't want you to. I wish your instincts didn't pull you along like this, but I don't want some quack to fiddle with your mind and make you stop thinking like a zmeu, either. Yes, it makes no damn sense. I'm aware. But I don't want you cutting out what makes you you, just because your boyfriend's stuck in the Middle Ages and thinks monogamy is the shit.' I raised a finger. 'And - though it doesn't affect my decision, mind - the way Nacht offered to do it still makes me feel slimy, because it knew there was a stupid part of me that wanted that, even if it will never end up in charge.'

Mia chuckled darkly. 'Yeah, Nacht's an arsehole. Reminds me of this lil' nightmare road trip back in middle school - I gotta tell ya sometime.'

'Was it at that museum dedicated to how the communists reeducated problematic paranormals?'

'Yep. I'd have never thought those things had once been zmeoaice if the guide hadn't told us.' Her grin was dry as she looked at me. 'Don't wanna end up as some overgrown scaleless lizard with twisted knees and no desires of my own in my head. Used to have these nice dreams about you getting sick of my lusts and deciding to put an end to 'em, made a nice balance to the ones about you killing me in a fit of rage.'

I gave her a dry look. 'What, did you read the Stepford Wives when I wasn't looking or something? I told you, just because it's satire, doesn't mean the writing's worth a damn.' Maybe I was just being humourless, but I really couldn't stomach stories that ended with decent people being mutilated for no reason, physically or otherwise.

Mia showed her fangs in a sarcastic grin. 'I'm past the age where I have bad dreams about make-believe stuff, David. If I ever need nightmare material, I'll open a history book.'

'I'm not holding my breath. You need about as much sleep as I do.' The difference being that she could actually go to sleep when relaxed enough.

'You're not holding your breath because you don't need to.'

'Yes, I just proved how lame jokes in this vein are. Can we move past it?' I held up my hands. 'Listen, Mia: nothing is going to change between us, no matter how many flings you have. It's not like you're going to fall in love or have children with someone else, and that's what actually matters to me.' My strigoi side's voice mixed with mine, creating a multilayered sound. 'It doesn't matter who you are with for a few short weeks, months, years...or a lifetime. You're still ours. And we, yours.'

As I rose and began to pace across the room - a four-dimensional extension of the dimensionless space that was the Keep. made for Mia's benefit - she drew her legs to herself, as close as she could come to laying her chin on her knees. 'So...you do want kids.' She didn't question the possibility, or lack thereof, of them coming to be.

Because it was only impossible right now, as she saw time. I'd shared my idea with her - less of a longshot than the moment of unity, thought it had me about as wired, because it was more personal. I'd told her that, yes, I could find a way to bypass the infertility common to undead, though it would take something of mine, not to mention restore every other undead's fertility; and trust me, you didn't want some of those people to start building families, and not just because they'd make shitty parents.

'Not right now, baby. It's not like we don't have eternity before us, anyway.'

She gave a small nod. 'Can I be honest? I don't really care for the idea right now, either. We're young, as immortals go. I don't think I'll be up for it for the next few...millennia, at least.'

I turned to her, spreading my arms. 'And that is perfectly fine. I know our opinions are supposed to matter equally, but it's not like I'd be the one giving birth or laying eggs, so I'm not going to push you. Not even after I trust myself not to be an aloof deadbeat.' Which would take longer than Mia wanting to be a mom, mark my words.

Mia sighed, staring don at nothing. 'It's not that I don't want...I mean, I'm not opposed to having any. I just don't wanna tie myself down with responsibilities right now. I wanna come back from work to fun, not more work.' Her voice was almost subdued as she continued. 'And it'll take a lot of work to be a good mom if I ever become one, instead of seeing my hatchlings as noisy roommates. But we already talked about how you don't want me to change myself, so...'

I leaned against the wall at her self-deprecating tone. 'Mia, I know my mad sex skills have your head spinning, but we haven't even been together for a year. It will take a while before we even get engaged, alright? Much less married.'

I don't know who was more shocked, honestly. Me, that a woman like her was willing to give me the time or day, or her, because I wanted something serious and didn't see her as a hussy.

Smiling demurely at the reference to my prowess in the bedroom, like the proper lady she was, Mia said, 'Right. Just hoping you're not planning to propose to me in public or something mortifying like that.'

'I'd say I expected you to be too confident to get embarrassed by anything, but I know better.' With a look even more solemn than my voice, I added, 'You have hidden depths.'

Her smile thinned, but the earlier glowing blush returned. 'Thank you.'

'Well hidden.' I wiggled my eyebrows. 'But I know how to reach them.'

And that was how I got a pillow thrown at me for the second time since we'd started dating. She's a monster, man, but I love her enough to forgive her cruelty.

Have you noticed our zmeu is much more casual about matters of the body than those of the heart?

About at the same time I noticed you talk like a hack's self-insert.

What?!

An incel's, probably. Mi mi mi, "matters of the heart".

You have no idea what you're talking about, my worse half sneered.

Bro, if we didn't share a body, you'd be so single.

As it descended to the depths of my mind to sulk, I picked up the pillow and tossed it back at Mia, who laid back on the bed after it landed on her chest. Managing to push down my jealousy at said pillow, I said, 'Since we're sharing our darkest thoughts and all that, and you started, I might as well reciprocate.'

Mia propped herself up on one elbow, moving the pillow so that it laid on a generous hip, and looked at me with one eye closed. 'Don't tell me you wanna be a dad because the other you was.'

I blinked as if slapped. '...Would you mind not implying I'm ever gonna do anything because I wanna follow in that sad bastard's steps? Cuz I don't,' I said tensely. 'Thank you.'

Mia winced. 'Sorry, that came out wrong. I know you wanna do everything better than he did, so-'

'What, including starting a family?' I flicked a hand. 'That's not something you're supposed to make a competition of. If we ever become parents, it will be because we both want to be, not because of whatever our other selves did.' Maybe I should tell Mia about the other Keeper me, one day. We really didn't have that much in common. 'No...forget him. He's gone. I wanted...I need to talk about what I almost did.'

In moments, Mia was sitting again and I was at her side once more. I inhaled, using the moment to gather my thoughts, but before I could say anything, Mia placed a clawed finger under my chin, using it to tilt my head her way. 'No stressing over my reaction, you hear? It's over and done, and I'm still here. That should tell you something.'

'That your taste is even worse than I thought?' I laughed at myself. 'I mean, hell, I realised you're tasteless the moment you started sleeping with me-'

'You're babbling, David,' she pointed out calmly.

'Right.' I began wringing my hands absentmindedly. 'I'm never going to forgive myself for it. I'm not going to hide behind the reveal of creation as a Dream, or claim there was a point in getting pissy over learning what happened to Chernobog.' He and his brother hadn't been the first gods to refuse the creation defined by the Syncretic Treaty, and be mostly forced into irrelevance. 'I just used that as more material to rant about to Uriel - I didn't care what had happened to Belobog, and bringing up something like that just to have another reason to scream was dishonest.'

A rumble rose from Mia's chest. 'I imagine you're not going to apologise to Uriel, though.'

'Fuck me, no. He's a blackhearted bastard who revels in genocide. Like if I never got out of that dark mood, except I didn't get happy about destroying everything.' I closed my eyes. 'I just didn't care. Thought if nothing was real, nothing that happened mattered; besides, wasn't it all, every action, part of a dream.' I grunted. 'Solarex used to think the same, and look at him now.'

Mia made a rude noise. 'Right, because your first reaction to learning about that was to turn into a genocidal serial rapist. Be serious, David. You were never as bad as that shiny prick.'

'I still shouldn't have planned to do that. I should've been thinking about how reality is relative, how lower dimensions appear fictional to the inhabitants of higher ones, and-'

'Ok, stop.' Mia slapped her hands on her thighs. 'You planned to do what? From what you told me, everything would've collapsed anyway, and only didn't 'cause you stepped up. That's what you told me.'

I looked her in the eyes. 'That's right. And I shouldn't have thought about standing by when I was needed because I'd been through shit. That's the same reason I couldn't keep a cool head.' I grit my fangs, grimacing. 'I can't afford to throw tantrums like that now, and I definitely couldn't then. I'm not entitled to putting my hatreds over everyone's lives. I just wish I'd accepted that earlier.'

Mia was quiet for a few moments, then said, 'Don't know if I'd have got to that point in your place. Between Chernobog's bullshit and the conspiracy around you...eh. I'd say I'd have gone crazy, but there's a decent chance I'd have killed myself. Definitely wouldn't want to meet a me who lived through that, wanted to keep doing so, and was sane.'

I stared up at her, saying nothing.

'I'm not saying entertaining omnicide wasn't a total dick move, David - I'd be concerned if you ever started brushing it off. But it seems awfully convenient, for them, that the assclowns who elected themselves to groom you could only do so by breaking you down then slapping you back together, and doing so without being caught until after the fact.'

I rolled a shoulder. 'The Mover's Dream. Or its hand at work now, I guess.'

'From what you told me, the Mover is the biggest dick in the history of existence. Everyone could be living in paradise now and only imagining what struggling is like if it didn't pop a stiffy watching people work themselves to the bone for what it could make with a finger snap.' Before I could reply, she groaned, almost roared. 'This is why I've never prayed, and I'm not planning to start, either.' Her voice took on a high pitch. 'Oh, the gods will guide you to plenty, they swear, as long as you do exactly as they say. I'm not going to trade favours just to ensure a spot for my soul. Maybe it's a human thing, but I'm not scared of death. I'm not that mortal.'

'No, really, tell me what's on your mind,' I snarked, earning a lazy, narrow-eyed stare. 'You don't have to worry about that, Mia. Your soul will end up with me, like all the godless ones. Nothing will change.'

She hugged me close with one, kissing my cheek. 'I know you're going to take care of me,' she whispered. 'Now, why don't you follow your own advice?'

'I've never been good at that,' I answered. 'Do you want to know why I went around asking everyone but you if they wanted to live? Because I knew you did, but was too much of a damn coward to face you.'

Half of Mia's mouth curved downwards. 'The man I love is not a coward, and has never been. But what does that have to do with being bad at following your own advice? You just admitted-'

'Yeah, but I never practised what I preached until it was too late. You know what I mean.'

Oh, yes, I'm content with my lot. I have where to live, what to eat, what to work. I have several close friends and a loving father, b-but my books aren't liked by people I'll never meet, much less ever care about. Better kill myself!

Daily, I looked back on that choice and cringed. How could I have been so selfish and not give a damn about what pops an my friends would think? Or, for that manner, how could I not have taken the risk of returning as a strigoi into account? Which did happen. If not for my relative lucidity after undeath, I would've rampaged. Even leaving the danger aside, what if pops had been forced to kill me? Stupid, stupid...and so weak-willed, giving in to despair because I didn't have something I wanted. Entering ARC and learning how some people had lived and still decided to help the world had been humbling.

Or how about a promise I'd made to myself? When I'd advised myself to always see the good side of things? I guess that didn't matter for shit either, when I got sick of existing and decided I might as well let everyone be dragged along. If there hadn't been people to talk me out of it, I'd have done it.

Which brought me back to Mia's point.

Her nostrils flared, small flames shining inside them. 'Yes, I know. So you were an ungrateful moron - you shuld be happy you got chances to make amends, make things better.' She held up a finger. 'But don't change the subject, David. I can tell you're more bothered by how you avoided me than I am. So?'

I leaned forward, hugging myself. 'As I said, I knew you'd tell me you wanted to go on, and that it was stupid to decide for others, no matter how hurt I was.' I should've asked myself, even while I was doing it: why am I running from Mia? Am I scared of her, scared she'll be ashamed of me, angry at me? Do I want to draw things out for as long as possible, so everyone dies without me doing anything? Or am I just unprepared to confront the fact that, if my girlfriend tells me she doesn't want to die, I have to either stop - to my displeasure - or keep doing, essentially telling her that her opinion doesn't matter?

Mia caught all those thoughts, of course, felt them trail across the aether. 'Goddamnit, David,' she murmured, rubbing my back, one hand moving in circles. 'You should've come to me, and I'd have helped. Did you think I wouldn't have? You couldn't have been scared of me...' Her voice grew firmer. 'Look at me, David.' As I did so, she continued, 'If I'd have said no, would you have stopped and listened? Or would you still have gone on to ask everyone you talked with? I like to think,' she added in a deadpan tone, 'that you wouldn't have just ignored me.'

'I couldn't have,' I admitted. 'I care too much. I don't know what I wanted. Maybe to see if there were people worth fighting for, besides you and the others.' My zmeu needed no clarifications. 'But that feels so fucking stupid, in hindsight. So what if everyone else was a complete scumbag? It wasn't like I could've chosen to let them perish and save those close to me. And I shouldn't have wanted to, anyway. It's not up to me to choose how they live.'

I looked up at her. 'I'm glad you don't hate me, even if it makes me feel guilty as sin to love you, touch you, after that.'

Mia sniffed. ' "You are a better woman than I deserve, but then, anything is better than nothing, eh? Eh?" '

I boggled at her. 'Is that nasal voice supposed to be mine? And I don't talk like that!'

'Of course you don't, darling.'

She's patronising you, human.

I noticed.

Not that there was a problem with that. I did sound ridiculously maudlin, some-most of the time. 'So...' I began after gathering my thoughts. 'It seems you're about as optimistic as I'm full of love for myself,' I joked. 'I'm open to ideas, if you've got any suggestions for improvement.'

Her tail swished irritably, twitching upwards as she spoke. It was not a gesture directed at me, but rather, a nervous tic that manifested when she couldn't find a solution to a problem. 'Might as well clear the air since we've started, right?'

So, we did. Decided to play questions and answers: she'd ask something and I'd answer, then reverse the process. Helping questions were added, since neither of us cared much for the rules we'd set, except the broadest one, the order. Mia started.

'I know you don't find me domineering, but you can always tell me if you feel I'm emasculating you. You know that, right?' she asked, sounding sheepish. 'I've scared off a few girlfriends and one boyfriend away by coming on to them too strongly early after a hookup.'

I gave her a considering look. 'Would any of them happen to be the cause of those marks you insisted weren't from fights back in tenth grade? The ones that coincided with your concentration plummeting?'

Mia glowered. 'I didn't say it was always unintentional.'

'Mhm...'

'Look, I took care of that shit. Got tired of getting burned in both senses of the word.' Interesting. Zmei being immune to heat, that suggested acid or the like. 'Are you really gonna bring up high school? You know it makes things weird for both of us.'

True, but it was a good way to get to the next point. 'Yes, it does, and I'm sorry. But I'm also glad you don't find us awkward as a whole.'

Mia's eyes darkened as she remembered the party I'd helped ARC organise, even as her smirk brightened. 'Oh, no need. You've got so many people doing that, I couldn't bear to steal their thunder.'

According to some of my newly-declared detractors, I was a pedophiliac piece of shit who'd been grooming Mia since ninth grade, and who'd followed on that by stalking her after graduation, before finally capitalising on a moment of weakness on her part, making her feel responsible for me after she'd brought me back from the dead.

It was funny. Their version of me seemed way more competent than I was, though for all the wrong reasons. 'They obviously don't know what a pain in the neck you were for most of high school. The only reason I didn't throw you out of a window was because you could fly.'

Class, describe the most important, for you, change your supernatural body went through during puberty. Motivate your answer.

What did Mia write? "Go answer go!"

She giggled, guessing the memory by the look on my face. 'You thought it was funny, admit it. Just because you nearly tore my paper and your desk in half doesn't mean you didn't.'

'I was actually disappointed by such a bright girl squandering her grades for the sake of jokes.'

Her face grew more serious. 'Ah, shite...I passed, didn't I? The past's the past. Like how we got together. People should be way more worried about why I'm robbing the cradle and obviously stringing a skinny old corpse along.' Her eyes were predatory as she said this, but her tone took all the bite out of her words.

'I don't know, Mia. What if their souls end up with me? I'll have to take care of them, provide the afterlives they deserve. And for that, I'll have to learn about them. Intimately.'

'David.'

'What?' I asked innocently, as the weapon rack that had mysteriously appeared next to me disappeared just as mysteriously. 'You know I love meeting new people and getting to know them.'

'No, you don't,' Mia said dismissively. 'You think people who annoy you should pay to talk and have a mute button.'

'I thought we all wish that. No?' I looked around, seeing only the most beautiful being in creation. 'Just me? Alright.'

'Just you,' she confirmed, with her usual crushing honesty. 'Might want to mention it next time you update your book, in an inner monologue, maybe.'

'I never miss a chance to brood more than usual, especially with a good reason,' I said fiercely, making her crack a smile. 'And, hey, talking about the book, you can always write some chapters of your own, if you want.'

'Yeah, I do kind of come across as a satellite character, don't I? Even in the sections focused on me, or when we're not together. And I wrote those.'

'Well, biographies never really manage to convey the full character of a person,' I reminded her. 'Even in the case of chumps like me.'

'Are you sure you're not just a bad writer?' she asked, peering dimly at me.

'Mia, please. That's the one thing I'll never have to verify,' I said dismissively, and leaned into her touch as she took my right hand into her larger, rougher one.

'The one thing?' Mia asked, eyes gleaming with mock-offence.

I chuckled. 'Besides how much I love you, obviously.'

* * *

Mia was unsurprised to find Constantin in the Urziceni church. She was, however, a bit taken off-guard upon being told he was also manifesting somewhere else, and not to rub elbows with religious bigwigs at some function, as she'd expected, but to, essentially, dictate his thoughts to the Archangel Gabriel.

'It does me good to share some things with my brother,' God's Mouth added in Constantin's voice after the explanation. 'And he enjoys conveying information of a less vital nature, for once.'

Constantin's verger, an energetic young woman the zmeu wouldn't have minded getting to know better, was making herself busy in another part of the building, though Mia could feel her love from the priest all the way from there. She looked up to him as if Constantin were her actual father, who she wished had resembled him more. Mia could agree with the sentiment, though Constantin insisted on reminding his verger about respecting her father's memory, and not making up some competition or considering him replaced.

After being told about her heart to heart with David, God's Mouth had nodded approvingly. 'That's great news, you two!' He clasped his hands, a section of the flame making up his face flaring brighter. A smile? 'You have my blessing, of course, whenever you want to make the next step, as well as any aid I can offer.'

Mia wrapped him into a grateful hug, managing not to give Uriel a piece of her mind. 'Thank you, pops~' she replied warmly. 'But we're not in any hurry. In fact, David wanted to know if you wouldn't like to hang out, slow down for a while.'

Though curious why his son hadn't asked him directly, Constantin agreed with the proposal. 'Of course. We'll have to discuss what you have in mind. I know I can get tiring, especially lately, with two voices in my head.'

Mia put the priest down and, shortly after, they were strolling around the church, though the zmeu was sure God's Mouth had left a replica inside, just in case. 'Well, a little birdie told me you've been encouraged to shoot your shot again, but I won't pry. I'd like to meet,' Mia's voice deepened, becoming sagely, 'the chosen one, anytime you want to introduce us. Provided you hit it off, naturally.'

Constantin's stride became shorter, his back bending until his small silhouette, swaddled in the black and crimson cloth he always wore when he wasn't wearing Uriel's modified armour, resembled a man his age. 'You probably know each other already,' he said in an unreadable voice. 'But she and I are barely acquaintances at the moment, so I won't bother her to take time out of her schedule too soon.' He stroked his storm cloud of a beard, crimson sparks dancing within it at his touch. 'As for hanging out...I do want to have some discussions I should have, but never managed to. We always think we'll have time...'