“Master?” Pluma asks, titling his little head up at him cutely, “Who hasn’t noticed what?”

Oh, he should not have asked that question to System out loud. He fake coughs once, buying himself an extra few seconds as he tries to rack his brain for an answer that doesn’t exist (or rather one he can’t give).

‘System?’ he thinks, reaching out for help.

The window blinks next to him in bold, [Don’t Ask System!]

So he’s on his own then, “I was just….,” he stalls looking down at the seraphim and its big shining blue eyes, cursing the original in his thoughts for creating such an innocent face that’s impossible to lie to, “my fall,” he explains, “I was hoping Cadeyrn wouldn’t notice, but…,” he sighs trying to act annoyed and put upon like a rich young master as the slightest inconvenience, “that plan has obviously failed.”

The seraphim’s little feathered ears drop, William is pretty sure feathers aren’t supposed to fold like a dog’s ears, but this a fantasy story, who is he to make the rules? “I’m sorry master,” he hiccups, nuzzling further into his robes, “I shouldn’t have told him you fell, but I was so worried!-,”

“I’m not blaming you!” he rushes out, remembering a second too late he’s supposed to be aloof, “I mean,” he quickly corrects, “I’m not blaming you Pluma,” he repeats in a gentler tone, easing his own surprise at the emotional outburst, “you did good fetching him, had I really been in trouble, you might have saved me.”

“Really?” The angel asks, tail swooshing and ear feathers poofing back up, “Don’t worry master, I will always be here to help!”

[System too!] the window chimes in, [😊].

‘Did you just use an emoji?’ he thinks both confused and mildly impressed, ‘this system really doesn’t take itself very seriously.’

[System takes itself very seriously!] it defends, pointedly turning its screen away so he can’t read it anymore.

‘And with the temper of a 5-year-old,’ he thinks, before the screen erupts into static, blinking out of existence.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks in his head, glancing around nervously to spot the window, ‘Hello?’

[System is fine.] A small window appears right under his nose, [Host is being mean to System. So System is on strike until Host apologizes]

‘I’m sorry okay,’ he thinks, wondering how in the world he’s going to be able to live with a System that’s always in his head, ‘and I need you right now!’

[What does Host need?] The System asks back to its regular cheer.

William glances at the two tunnels in front of him, ‘Which way?’ he asks, trying not to make it seem like he’s loitering, by brushing out an invisible stain on his robes.

[System will map us there!] and a new window, stylized like an 8-bit version of a treasure map appears, [Querying route!] it reads before with a burst of holographic confetti it writes [Route programmed! Now leading Host to target destination [Asterius’s Home]!]

And in front of his eyes, the confetti morphs into golden sparkles and races off ahead of him, highlighting the left pathway.

‘Nifty,’ he thinks, confidently striding down the left passageway, Pluma makes no move to show his confusion, so it must truly be the right way!

..

William never should have trusted that damn System. Apparently much like a real GPS, fictional all-knowing ones also lead you the wrong way.

‘Where the hell are we System?!’ he thinks angrily, staring up at the third cliff face the useless floating text box has led him into.

[Uh, System… System…]

‘Just tell me you don’t know,’ he thinks with an out loud sigh. Pluma and Cadeyrn didn’t seem to find this behavior strange, so the real Asterius must have been found of spontaneous walks, but William is very much not. The three suns in the sky really weren’t helping. He was melting into a puddle back on Earth, but it’s 100 times worse here. When reading the book, he never considered that having three suns would change the temperature, but looking back it was a stupid thing to think. Of course, having three suns is going to cause a problem!

“Master?” Pluma asks, tone tinted with worry, “You aren’t looking too good…”

He wasn’t feeling too good either. Asterius's long flowing robes might look really pretty, but they are sweltering in the sun. How did this man survive this outfit, there are at least three layers of silk here!

Suddenly there’s a jolt of cold wind on the back of his neck, he spins around alarmed. Cadeyrn is standing right behind him, hand slightly raised, a sparkling blue mist twirling around his fingers before disappearing into the air, “Pardon my insolence, master-,” and oh no, Cadeyrn calls Asterius ‘Master?’ He is so not surviving this story, especially when he calls him that with that deep rumbling voice. He is so screwed. “-you looked a little hot,” the demon finishes and for a second Asterius forgets what he was saying before and flushes more at the double meaning.

[Host!] The System complains, blinking angrily in his face. He startles slightly, but the repeated exposure to this behavior is helping him not be as obvious at his surprise, [Stop lusting after the demon! Stay in character!]

“R-Right,” he stutters, tearing his eyes away from Cadeyrn, and down towards Pulma, whose doing his best to glare up at the demon from William’s arms, “I thank you for your effort.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

There’s a faint sharp intake of breath, and Pluma whips his head to stare up at Asterius. William freezes, even as the system flashes red, screaming [OOC! OOC! OOC!] at him. ‘What had he done wrong?’

[Asterius isn’t that nice to Cadeyrn!] The System explains quickly, [say something mean! Quick!]

‘Something mean?’ he thinks, helplessly looking up at the surprised demon, ‘how can I say anything mean about a perfect person?!’

[HOST!]

“But-,” he begins trying to scramble for something, “don’t waste your effort. And for daring to touch me-," he nods behind them away from the cliff, “walk ahead and make sure the path back home is clear.”

Cadeyrn’s surprise quickly morphs into amusement as he gives a little exaggerated bow, hand placed over his heart, “Of course master, I am bound to serve after all.”

‘This man really needs to stop saying things that can be taken in a sexual context!’ he complains in his head, as the System chimes in with a text box that almost feels like it giving him side eye, [and Host needs to get his brain out of the gutter.]

‘I’m trying!’ he defends, racing to catch up with the demon, ‘I mean look at him,’ he says making a mental gesture forward towards the back they are following, ‘sure he’s wearing boring work clothes, but they fit him so well you can see all his back muscles flexing-,’

[Host.] and William stops his rambling, practically hearing the deadpan disappointed tone in the System’s textbox, [Host can look as much as Host wants, but please don’t get caught. System does not want to report that its first mission failed because Host was horny.]

Oh god, that really would be mortifying. To die again because he couldn’t keep it in his pants, what a terrible way to go, he would never be able to look his sister in the eyes again. ‘Okay, I’ll tone it down.’

[-_-]

He quickly turns away from the System, ignoring its disbelieving emoji, “So Pluma,” he starts as the seraphim stops wiggling around in his arms, “What do you want to do today?”

“Stay with Master!” he says, his white lion tail wagging happily behind him and slapping William in the stomach, “It’s what I always want!”

Well, there went that plan to snoop around what Asterius normally did.

“What does Master want to do today?”

‘You couldn’t even give me any suggestions!?’ he thinks, panicking. Asterius’s hobbies or day-to-day life obviously wasn’t something covered in the book. Hell, Cadeyrn wasn’t even named!

“How about we paint?” he blurts, saying the first thing that came to mind.

Pluma blinks, considering, “Master has never wanted to paint before,” he notes idly, and William curses himself for the slip-up, but the System wasn’t angrily messaging him to stay in character so it must be okay? “But Pluma will be happy to try!”

Oh good, not too unusual then for Asterius to pick up random hobbies, ‘What a weirdly cute quirk,’ he thinks to himself. Even if Asterius was the villain of Maira’s story, he was still a person. ‘Makes me kinda sad he’s gone.’

“Oh, Master!” Pluma says excitedly, tugging on his robes and launching himself up into the air, spinning around happily, “We’re home!”

He looks up and-

Wow, it's… normal.

Well obviously, not normal for modern construction styles, but for a medieval-style house, it looks like something ripped straight out of a bad King Arthur remake. A small one-story stone building with a thatch roof, and ivy growing up the side in the cracks between uneven bricks. The open shuttered windows and front door are all carved from knotted oak wood. And there’s a small wooden shed a few dozen feet away, gardening tools leaning against the side in a neat row.

It looked like a home, plain and simple. For the revered god of fate, William was expecting… something a bit more exciting.

“Master?” and he snaps to attention by the deep voice, locking in on Cadeyrn's smirk, “shall I fetch you some paints?”

“Paints?” he repeats, confused by the sudden question.

The demon nods, “You wanted to paint today, yes?”

‘Wait, he had heard that? He was at least 30 feet ahead of them! That’s-,”

[Host.] the system warns, [OOC.]

Right. Not the time.

“I would like that, thank-,” Wait he can’t be nice to him! 'This is torture!' he complains to the System, as he adds on, “And be quick.”

Cadeyrn smiles, looking oddly pleased for someone just ordered around. He gives that fake deep bow and walks off, heading back down the dirt road they took to get here.

“Hey Pulma,” he says turning to the flying angel next to him, “do you think you could go with him?”

The seraphim’s face scrunches up in distaste, but solemnly nods, as though William just told him to report to the front lines, “As master wills,” he mutters, before taking off like a bullet towards the retreating figure of Cadeyrn.

He watches them disappear over the rolling green hills before he heaves a sigh of relief, finally a moment to himself.

[Hey Host!] the System reads popping up in front of his face, ‘or well mostly alone’. He amends heading towards the stone-bricked house, [Host may be a bit…] it pauses as if thinking before typing [odd]. He sends it a little glare, [but Host still did well for your first day!]

“Thanks,” he mutters twisting the handle and walking inside.

And oh, now it makes sense. Anyone wearing three layers of silk for the aesthetic wouldn’t be satisfied with a little cottage house.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” he notes, scanning up toward the ceiling that's at least three stories high. “Impressive,” he whistles, eyeing the glittering silver chandelier designed to look like a scattering of constellations, each star is a faint white light, washing the interior of the home in a gentle dim glow. The floor is a dark obsidian tile carved to form a pattern of flowers and the walls are a light pastel blue. Every window is heavily shaded with gauze curtains and the smell of lilies and rain fills the space. To his right is a grand living room, filled with deep blue furnishings with complex golden lacework, on top of a warm cream-colored rug. To the left is an equally grand dining table made of a glittering crystal-like substance. The outside may be from a B movie set but the inside is something straight out of a high-end home decorating catalog. Elegant and sparkling.

Before he can take one step inside, a message pops up, [Please remember to rate the System 5-stars for a satisfactory arrival!]

His eye twitches, “5-stars?” he asks, turning to face the window, “You got us lost.”

[System did its best! Give System 5-stars!]

“2,” he deadpans, walking through the screen and into the house.

[Meanie Host!]

“Be grateful it’s not zero,” he grumbles, glancing up the stairs, “where’s Asterius’s room? This place is huge.”

[Up the stairs] the System reads on a small textbox, obviously appropriately chastised, [it’s the only room on the second floor]

“Can you like turn off or something for a bit?” he asks slowly ascending the stairway, cautious about touching the handrail that appears to be made of solid silver.

[No.]

He figured as much, “I just need some time System,” he explains reaching the top of the stairs, the chandelier is even more impressive from this angle. “I need to think through everything.”

The System doesn’t respond right away, long enough for him to start thinking he’s been ignored when-

[System can’t leave, but System can choose to not look for a bit. Host has an hour.]

“Thank you, System,” and he opens the door.