That night, we hung out for hours, playing games together and mostly just relieved that Emily was okay. Even Anastasia had taken a liking to the girl. “Do you think your godmother can be trusted? Will she keep the girl safe?” she asked. “Even against one of these lords of the demons?” She was a heathen – I mean, a good, Russian Orthodox girl – and had almost no knowledge about the greater world outside of what she’d been taught back on Earth.
I could have had the same issues, but Daddy and Momma had made sure that I knew what I’d need to know before packing me off to Golarion for my little sabbatical that turned into trying to save the world. I felt bad for the princess.
“In the land of dreams,” I said, “there is no one who can keep her safer. Perhaps a god could threaten her, but I can’t imagine any of those will get involved.”
“I see,” the girl said, frowning.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“It is still much to take in. I… do not disbelieve you. But to think, everyone I know is dead. Even those who were not murdered have died of old age.”
“You do have a relative still alive,” Burin said cheerfully.
Anastasia sighed. “Yes, my grandmother, the witch from folk tales. And she is stuck in a doll.”
“It is not so bad, being alone. You get used to it. Also, we are working on freeing your grandmother,” Gregor said.
“How exactly are you working on it? I see nothing but idleness. You play cards, and yet you call that working?”
“We can do nothing while we travel,” Gregor said defensively. “So we must train. As the body is trained, so too must the mind. And the cards are part of that training.”
“They are games for children!” she countered.
“Games are training!” Gregor argued.
The two continued bickering like that for several minutes before Greta had enough. “Stop it, both of you!” she said, growling. “I have not torn out your throat out of respect for your grandmother. But it has grown annoyingly loud in here since you arrived.”
Things devolved from there, in general. I don’t think she expected Greta’s reaction to being called a bitch – it doesn’t bother her, as technically, well, you know. But what killed the argument was when she condemned me and Greta for “living in sin” and I told her suggestively that she was welcome to come discover what she was missing. After that, she stormed out to go sleep in the library. Gregor was angry with us for ganging up on her, though I think he was mostly annoyed that we didn’t leave the fight to him.
After she was gone, the boys continued their game with the Coffin Man while Greta and I went to bed. Getting into an argument had fired up my wife and she had some aggression to work off. I was more than happy to help with that.
I woke up early the next morning to a familiar sound from the living room. It took a few moments for my brain to register what I was hearing, but when I did, I quietly got up and crept over to the door, peeking out.
It seems that even here, no one wakes up earlier than children and old people. And so it was that I found Emily and the Coffin Man watching cartoons while the rest of the house slept. He was seated in a rocking chair while she was on the floor staring raptly at the screen, her mouth moving along with the words of the theme music.
Sometimes I forget that she’s younger than she looks, thanks to her body aging while her soul was trapped elsewhere. Her body might be around thirteen, but her mind is closer to ten years old. And I hadn’t been much younger when I’d watched that particular show with Daddy.
I quietly closed the door and got changed, my clothes taking the appearance of the costume worn by the show’s protagonist. I then crept out and took a seat in another chair behind the girl, motioning for the Coffin Man not to say anything. Then I watched along, waiting for the episode to finish. I was in luck. This was the one where the credits were to the opening theme instead of the instrumental ending because of certain events that transpired in the show.
So I sang along, waiting for the right moment to join in with Emily, who was already singing along. “She will never turn her back on a friend. She is always there to defend. She is the one on whom we depend…”
About that time, Emily turned around and noticed what I was wearing. “Miss Lyriana!” she gasped. “You’re…”
“An old fan,” I said. Not of the original. The animation was too bad for me even as a kid. No, I liked the remake that was released back in the summer of twenty nine. “I watched this show back when I was about your age.
“I… wow!”
I grinned. “So you like this one?” I asked.
“She’s a hero,” Emily said with a nod.
“I see…” So she was still serious about being a hero. “She’s also really good at magic,” I said. A thought occurred. “You wanna see a show about a girl who summons monsters to fight evil?”
Her eyes went wide. “There’s a show like that?!” she gasped.
Actually, I could think of at least half a dozen that loosely worked on that kind of premise. But I knew just the one. The main character was a princess, after all. It was perfect.
The Coffin Man took our choice to watch such kids’ fare like a champ. I mean, he was also traveling through time, so this was all new to him too. It was a little creepy how he identified with the evil spirit that had granted the main character magic through a pact, though.
Greta joined us about an hour later, kissing me on the top of my head as she came to see what we were watching. At that exact moment, the show introduced the main character’s second love interest – the cyborg. Greta stared at him for a moment. I couldn’t blame her. For an animated character, he’s pretty hot. And shirtless in that scene too.
“Is that possible?” she asked.
“I mean, yeah, I guess you could kill a dragon that big with that much plasma,” I said. “Maybe not a red or blue. But a black dragon like that wouldn’t have any immunity to fire or electricity.”
“No,” Greta said. “His arm…”
Oh. Right. The character had his arm replaced with a robotic one. I’d been waiting to talk to her about that, when I was more sure of myself. “I’ve actually been thinking of making one for you,” I said. “I just wasn’t sure I would be able to properly implant it, so I’ve been waiting until my magic headband made me a good enough surgeon that I could implant it with no trouble.”
“I could help with that,” Terry said from the door to his room.
I mean, he was a decent battlefield surgeon, but this was some delicate work. “You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah. I got something called a PhD now, so I think I’m qualified.”
“Wait, what?” I was mystified.
“I asked the mirror how to make money, and it suggested I get this PhD thing. So I did. I had to learn a lot. Not sure how it’ll make me any money, though.”
I just stared at him for a moment, then I remembered something Emily had said when we first revived her. “‘I’ve seen one of those before. But there were a lot of naked people in the mirror.’ She was remembering you studying anatomy, not watching pornography,” I said as realization hit. I was almost disappointed in him.
“Porno-what?” he asked.
“Never mind,” I said. “Back to the arm. It’ll be made of modern materials, lightweight and strong, with artificial muscles and everything. Also, I think we can make it shapeshift when you take your wolf form.” That part had surprised me, but Cortana had suggested it. Apparently it was based on something Daddy was working on, some kind of shapeshifting armor for someone he knew that was both a dragon and a paladin. Yeah, I don’t know.
But it would work for Greta, and that was awesome.
So I went over to the box and activated the crafting function. It had the specs for the last thing made still loaded – some kind of magic shovel. It was collapsible for easy storage and had what the specs described as a “point and dig interface”. It could excavate a hundred and twenty five cubic feet of dirt in six seconds.
Basically, it was an unlimited use magic wand capable of casting a first level spell. And Burin had created it for digging. Some things never change.
We scanned Greta’s other arm and used that as a template, then made the other one. It took only moments before we were staring at a perfectly crafted limb made of dull gray metal. The end was a mass of nano fibers, artificial nerves that hopefully would be woven into Greta’s own nervous system, allowing her to control the arm as if it were her own natural limb.
It all happened so fast. It took hours, but it seemed like only minutes later, Greta was lying on the table unconscious while Terry and I finished attaching her limb and injected her with several doses of nanites. And then the waiting began. We would have to wait for her to wake up, since we couldn’t use nanites to do it without risking interfering with the other nanites already at work.
To distract myself, I worked with Cortana to make Greta a new weapon. She’d used that big axe when I first met her, but I wasn’t sure she’d have that much coordination for a while. Something one handed, maybe. I browsed through the weapons catalog, until finally finding something I liked. The label on the file called it a Sun Blade. But it had some problems.
First of all, it was a sword, and my lovely barbarian wife seemed to like axes. That was an easy fix. The paperclip made that switch easily. Next came the hard part. You see, a sun blade is made to be wielded by Good creatures, like angels and paladins and such.
Greta… is a winter wolf. They’re not known to be Good. It’s possible she’s Neutral, but let’s be honest, she’s probably Evil. Which I can work with. I like bad girls just fine, and she’s always treated me well. But the weapon wouldn’t work for her. So that had to go. It was intrinsically linked to the weapon’s properties, though, so it had to be altered, rather than removed. So next it became an Evil weapon. Burin wouldn’t be able to wield it, though it would likely be useable by Gregor or Terry if they wanted, since I’m sure they’re both at least Neutral.
Altering the alignment had also altered the sunlight power, so instead of producing light, the axe made the air around it colder. That wouldn’t bother Greta or me, and everyone else was wearing gear that would protect them against such effects. So that was fine.
All that was left to have the weapon made. I told Cortana to begin. “Error!” the paperclip shouted as the process started. “Crafting unstable! Power draw greater than expected. Compensate?”
“Do it!” I shouted. Cortana looked at the clip and nodded.
I thought the box was going to explode, but moments later, there was a ding like a microwave timer and a burst of mist. When that cleared, there it was, a beautiful axe the size and shape of one of those larger ones the dwarves use and covered in snowflake filigree. I picked it up, and it was ice cold to the touch, and super light. Like, lighter than mithral. But it felt perfectly balanced. I didn’t dare swing it, for fear that would cause it to react negatively with my alignment. But I could hold it just fine.
After Greta woke up, we tested out her arm and I led her to our room so I could give her my gift. “It is beautiful,” she said. “Almost as beautiful as the one giving it to me.” I blushed as she swung it. “It is very light,” she said, her tone sounding perhaps a bit hurt and almost accusatory. Crap. I had failed to account for her feelings when I’d made it.
“It’s, well, I…” I raced for an explanation. “It’s made to be used one handed,” I said. “It’s just, well, you got hurt, and I was worried. So I was hoping you’d also use a shield.” It was the only thing my mind could come up with that would explain why I’d done it that way without calling into question her abilities. It was my fear – not her strength – that was the issue.
She regarded me for a moment, then smiled. “If it will make you feel better, then I will use a shield,” she said, testing the axe again. “Thank you for the gift.”
I hugged her. “You’re welcome. So, are you going to name it?”
“That is traditionally the job of the smith,” she said.
“Oh. Well, in that case, how does ‘Winter’s Kiss’ sound to you?” I asked.
She tossed the axe aside and pressed me to the wall. “That sounds lovely,” she said, pressing her lips against mine.
An hour or so later, we returned to the common room, where we found Gregor teaching Anastasia and Emily how to bowl in a sports game. It’s just as lame as it sounds. But I have to admit, he’s pretty good at the game. We ended up forming up teams and having a competition, and it was more fun than I expected.
Since there were nine of us, we split into three teams. The Guisers were on one team, then it was Burin, Gregor and Anastasia on team two and Greta, the Coffin Man and I on a third team. Terry, Gregor and the Coffin Man got really into the competition, while the rest of us were just having fun. All in all, Team Guiser won thanks to Anastasia’s low score, followed by Gregor’s team and finally ours, thanks to the penalty incurred for Greta breaking a controller with her new arm.
After that, we switched to boxing competition. Gregor lost his first match Anastasia, who was treating the game like a game, using short, stifled jabs to make the character attack inhumanely fast. Meanwhile, Gregor was performing proper combat maneuvers, which did nothing to benefit him in the game, much to his consternation. In the end, it was Emily versus Anastasia, and the younger girl won, playing the game the same way as Anastasia. She has the eye of the tiger, that one.
After his losses, Gregor stayed up drowning his sorrow in cranberry juice. Burin stayed up with him. From my room, I could hear them talking, and I admit that I listened in. “I find that I do not know what to do next,” the fighter was saying. “Tell me, Burin, what will you do now?”
“Probably return home after we save the world,” the dwarf answered. “I left a lot of work for my cousins. I guess I should get back and carry my share of that load, since I don’t have the demon to worry about. What are you going to do?”
“I… do not know. I am thinking perhaps I will rebuild Sergei’s monastery. Or perhaps travel the world to become stronger first. Freedom… is a daunting prospect. It is perhaps not good to have so many options available before me.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Burin said. “And if you can’t, I can always use help back at home. I’ve been meaning to rebuild the wall on the south end of our property for decades. An extra set of hands and a strong back might make the work go quicker, and having someone to talk to while I work will definitely make the work less tedious.”
Gregor laughed. “I suspect you will turn into a dragon and have the work finished in a week.”
“But then I’d have nothing to do,” Burin pointed out.
Gregor made a noise as though he were considering the dwarf’s words. “I will think on this for a time.”
The next morning, I was awoken by a knock at my door. When I opened it, I found Terry there. He was covered in paint and chomping on an apple. “I was just working on repairing and painting Zeus when I heard a noise. Then I went and investigated, and found our wives in the library. They were going at it pretty hard.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes went wide at his words. I mean, I know you know what I thought he meant. I know I almost fell running to the library, slipping on the wood floor in my socks. Then I threw open the library door to find…
A normal sized wolf and a manticore the size of a puma chasing each other around the library, attacking each other without doing any real harm to the other. “Oh!” Emily said from where she, Anastasia and Burin were watching the fight. “Sorry, Miss Lyriana, did they wake you?” Apparently she and Burin had cast spells to shrink Greta and Persephone to make better use of the smaller space.
I sighed, disappointed. “No, it’s fine.”
Gregor, who had heard the commotion, came in the room behind me. “Are we sparring?! Why did no one wake me?!”
That signaled the start of a whole physical fighting tournament. Gregor won that handily, though Burin gave him more trouble than he expected. Then Gregor and Persephone decided that Emily and Anastasia needed combat training.
Have you ever seen kids start martial arts classes? It was like that, but worse, somehow. They sucked. It was so bad that Greta left rather than continue watching. Eventually Emily gave up and went to go play games with the Coffin Man – they were working on getting their fourth gym badge, I think – and even Gregor gave up on training anyone, leaving to go eat.
But Anastasia wasn’t finished. She wanted to make some progress, so she and Persephone continued and I watched. But not because I wanted to see Persephone sweaty and grunting. They just needed someone keeping an eye on them. I was being altruistic.
After another hour, I could see Persephone was ready to give up. She’d been trying to teach the girl to fight with a sword – using wooden practice weapons, of course – and Anastasia just couldn’t master even the simplest of moves.
“Alright,” Persephone said. “One more round, and then we’re calling it a day. I’ll have you down in three seconds.”
Anastasia nodded, then took her stance. There was something different to it. Her shoulders were angled slightly differently from usual, and she held the sword with its tip pointed slightly lower than usual. At first, I thought she was just worn out. But then Persephone charged…
And Anastasia surprised both of us by dropping low and kicking the legs out from underneath Persephone. She wasn’t able to capitalize on the maneuver though, and Persephone leapt to her feet and still won the match. Still… it was pretty impressive.
“I didn’t teach you that,” Persephone said.
“I… saw Gregor do it during training.”
“Oh?” Persephone asked, her eyebrow raised as she shot me a knowing look. I caught the implication immediately. Oh my. “So you’ve been watching him train?”
“No, well, I…” the girl stammered. “There is nothing else to do here!” she complained.
Persephone put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “There’s no need to be bashful,” she said. “We’re all girls here. And I think you have excellent taste. You can tell a lot about a girl by the man she watches.”
“By that logic…” I said, pointedly leaving it hanging.
“Hey!” Persephone said defensively. “Terry’s good. Well, kinda.”
“I do not know how I feel,” Anastasia admitted. “Everything is so confusing right now.” And Gregor was the most normal person here, all things considered. I understood where she was coming from.
“I understand,” I said. “But if you decide you do have feelings for him and want to make a move, we’ll definitely support you.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Of course,” Persephone agreed.
“Now,” I said, “let’s use a little magic and get you both cleaned up. It wouldn’t do to have the boys see you all sweaty.”
“I’m pretty sure that would just turn Terry on,” Persephone said. Ugh. I do not need to have something in common with that psychopath. I didn’t comment aloud. I just started using my magic to clean away their sweat.
No sooner had I finished than there was a commotion from the other room, so we ran to check on it. And you’re not going to believe what we found. I mean, really, I guess, it’s par for the course. We’re pretty weird. But still, come on, this was too much for us.
“I thought violence solves everything?” Persephone asked with a smirk as we all stared at Terry.
Terry flailed, trying to block Zorka’s broom swing. “I just haven’t applied enough violence yet!” he shouted. “Emily, go get my rocket launcher!”
“But I’m fighting the boss right now!” the girl complained.
“Let your friend have a turn and go right now, young lady!”
She rolled her eyes, but handed the Coffin Man the controller and ran off, only to be caught by the collar by her mother. “You are not using that thing in the house.”
Terry rolled his eyes – I wonder where Emily gets it, eh? – and kicked at the kikimora, who dodged back. “Fine! Zeus, sic her!”
The next few moments are a blur, but when it was over, Burin was a dragon – and covered in pudding – I had mashed potatoes in my hair, Zorka had retreated into her little magic hiding hole, Terry’s gun had been knocked from his hand, discharging at Anastasia but luckily Gregor was there to catch the bullet and Persephone was just staring at the chaos with a befuddled look on her face.
We were dead silent and near motionless for nearly a minute when the calm was suddenly broken by the exuberant shout of Emily. “I did it!” she shouted, accompanied by the sound of video game victory fanfare.
It was so absurd, all of it. Of course we all began laughing. And didn’t stop for a solid five minutes. Thankfully, I don’t need to breathe, because I would have passed out if I did.
The next few days were mostly uneventful. We played games. Persephone brokered a truce with Zorka. And we genuinely just rested, even if being stuck in such close proximity was getting a bit grating. And then the hut came to a stop.
Anastasia demanded to come along, and Greta wanted to come as well. With the former not remaining behind, we really couldn’t justify leaving the latter, even despite my worries that she might not be fully recovered. We even invited the Coffin Man, but he said that the terms of his deal with “his cousin” were that he had to remain in the hut. Which was fine, but the way he was looking over at the gaming console while he said it made me wonder if he was being completely honest.
And then we went outside, though Terry realized he’d forgotten something just before we exited and ran back to get it. So we stepped out into the crisp mountain air. Immediately, Gregor seemed surprised. I followed his gaze and spotted the Old Man, the one who had saved us against Typhon Lee so long ago.
“Wait here,” the fighter said grimly as he went over to talk with his temporary mentor, his “god of martial arts”.
As we waited, I looked around. The place was harsh, but peaceful. Even beautiful, in its own way.
We sat in silence, unable to hear the conversation over the winds through the mountain pass. We didn’t even hear the door open behind us. But we did hear Terry let out a whistle of surprise. “Huh. What are we doing here?” he asked.
“You know this place?” Burin asked.
“Yeah, we’re just outside of Sergei’s monastery. Though I guess we’ll want to take the long road, unless you all feel like climbing up the cliff face.”