NOVEL NEXT The Tale of Twilight: A Long Three Hours
<Wait a moment,> Suri requested. <I want to get one last look at you, as a mortal, if that's alright?>
Zyriko obliged, spinning around slowly. His wife watched unblinking, hands on Her hips, Her Own glow lighting the room.
<I could revert any time, if You ever feel nostalgic,> he pointed out.
She shook Her head, ringlets flapping back and forth. Tonight, She was back to Her original style, an even curtain hanging to Her shoulders all the way around, except from the corner of one eye to the other, where it hung to just above Her brows. No earrings, either, or mana painted on Her face.
<Not instantly, not all the way, and once you feel what it's like, you will never want to revert fully,> She predicted.
Whole truth in three, two, one...
<And I expect that I won't want you to,> She admitted. <Alright, thank you. I'll always have this memory. Go ahead.>
When Zyriko took a step toward Her, instead of reaching for his tunic, Suri's burst of glee made his knees wobbly.
<How can people marry anything but uniquely powerful red mages?> She wondered. <I don't get it.>
<They ask with words, when they want a kiss?> he suggested.
<How dreadful. The anticipation of you noticing is half the fun.>
<Ouch,> he teased. <Well, at least it's not all of the fun.>
She giggled against him.
<Don't worry, dear husband. Half of a lot. Thanks for the bonus memory.>
A lot, indeed.
Zyriko turned, and picked up his own copy of the tunic. Just like Suri's, it appeared to be made of the light of the noontime sky.
He held in his hands hundreds of his wife's precious hours. The pinnacle of Her talent and diligence. A genuine divine artifact so complex that the Blue Goddess Herself did not understand how it worked, so intricate that making it proclaimed Her divinity. A Sacred Mantle, and sacred responsibilities.
Be the highest class of helper, every day, forever, or put it down.
Zyriko pulled it over his head. There would be no formal vows of permanent service yet, not for a few years, but there was still work to do.
In the meantime, Suri had removed Her Own copy, so that all of Her mana would be available to power Zyriko's initial transformation.
He swallowed. What She was wearing now was a memory he was very thankful for.
<You barely ever get to see Me in anything but My tunic,> She explained, looking him over with Her hands on Her hips again. <Since I can't wear it for the next few hours, anyway, I decided that it would be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity. This style was your favorite, mm?>
Yes. Yes it was.
<How can people marry anything but uniquely powerful blue mages?> he wondered. <I don't get it.>
Two giggles already! What a night!
<How's the fit?> She asked, smirking in satisfaction.
He swung his arms and twisted a little.
<A bit looser than my other clothing, but not too loose.>
As planned. Needing to make a larger copy in the future would be a massive waste of time and mana. The style was simple and loose, anyway.
<Perfect. Ready to start?>
Suri had been nearly overdrawn, powering Her Own transformation, and there was no reason to expect Zyriko's would be any different. Her next few hours would need to be spent in calm, meditative breathing, carefully managing Her mana flow and exerting Herself as little as possible.
<Ready when You are.>
Suri surveyed the room briefly, then sat on the bed.
<Lay here.> Pat, pat. <Head here.> Pat, pat.
Was there anything better than being married to a benevolent Goddess? That question basically answered itself.
As soon as he laid down, his tunic started drawing mana from Her. An Echo of a Goddess, perfectly replicated. Again.
<Good husband.> She started playing with his hair. <You know, your tunic won't be able to run for long without recharging from Me. You'll need to stay close, all the time.>
<Hmm. We'll need to marry, or there'll be a scandal.>
Three! He was in the zone!
<A little over a year, since that bench in the garden,> Suri reminisced. <And look at Us now.>
<Is that why You returned to Your old style?> Zyriko asked. <Thinking back on the early days?>
She tilted Her head, while She thought it over.
<Not exactly,> She decided. <I just felt drawn to being pure Me, tonight. My natural state, no frills.> She held up a hand, and splayed Her fingers. <I suppose I shouldn't have My nails painted, if that's what I'm going for, but I've been doing it for so long that unpainted feels less natural. My hands wouldn't feel like My hands, you know? Same for My feet.>
<Mmm,> he agreed. <Blue is best.>
Unable to resist, he reached up and tucked one curtain of ringlets behind Her ear. It had the same effect now as it had in the Armory, months ago, maybe because that memory was perfectly vivid, for Her? For the Goddesses, the past was distinguishable from the present only rationally, not viscerally, so the right stimulus, or the wrong one, could transport Them back in time. Him too, soon.
<There's something I've never made perfectly clear, I think.> Suri had Zyriko's undivided attention. <I was happy, for My Own sake, that you wanted to be actually married, for real. That I was far more than a solution to a problem, for you. When I first started meeting suitors, even though I knew how foolish it was, I couldn't help having girlish dreams: 'Maybe if I'm very diligent, and patient, I'll find someone I really love! And we can make a difference!'> She pointed to the ringlets tucked behind Her ear. <I wanted this, this kind of thing. Then I was force-fed vile reality for ten years. When you linked, the first time, and I saw...everything, all of it, who you were and how you felt and what you wanted...I felt fifteen again.>
Zyriko reached up and tucked the other curtain. Same effect.
<Any time, for as long as You keep me around,> he promised, patting his tunic. <When we first linked, I could sense that You were not at all upset about how I felt, so from the beginning, I had a general idea. And, You told me that You were 'eager.' I got the message. Regardless, thank You for telling me directly. I asked that we be honest with each other. You've honored that, and everything I've learned has made me love You more.>
Suri was silent, as if to focus on Her mana management, but soon growled aloud in frustration.
<How am I supposed to restrain Myself for like three hours while My unreasonably gorgeous husband transforms into the literal God of Courtship, right in front of Me? It's not fair! I'm Prosperity, not Patience!>
This was going to be a long three hours.
----
"...Glowing...My color...Zyriko...My...Glowing...Everywhere..." Suri gasped, still in recovery from critical mana exhaustion. She was lying on the bed, hands covering Her face, while She stomped Her foot slowly. Her Own glow was feeble, but still lingered, as did Her outside-reality effect, which Zyriko also now shared.
Satisfied that Her pool was continuing to make good progress toward stabilizing, Zyriko returned to examining his new appearance.
Wearing his favorite color had always given him a thrill. Now, as Suri had...observed, he glowed it, everywhere. He was so full of Suri-ness that Suri-glow enveloped him. They would match, uniquely and perfectly, once Her pool recovered and She put Her tunic back on. He had known this was coming, obviously, but it was still intoxicating. Nevertheless, he felt a little anxious, overall.
"I...Should a man be this...pretty?" he asked, hesitantly. She would love these soft, lustrous curls, of that he was certain, but the rest of it?
"It works...for Me," Suri gasped, stealing glances from underneath Her hands. "It really, really...works...for Me."
"Me too, then," he exhaled, relieved. That was all that mattered.
"Glowing My color!" She groaned. Or was that more of a whine?
He checked Her pool again. Almost stabilized.
Appearance aside, the mental sharpness was definitely welcome. It was easier to understand how Izenakee was able to manage so many conversations at once, now that he could feel the effect for himself. Aside from glowing Suri's blue, this was the part that would be the most difficult to give up. He understood what Suri meant, about not wanting--
She threw Herself off the bed, stumbled over to him, and used two fingers to smear a line of Her mana across his forehead.
"Mine."
Sometimes, it didn't take many words to say the whole truth. Zyriko nodded.
"Pool's fine...See?...Do...perfect link thing."
----
Telf was sitting across from Prosperity at a small table in the sky-chapel.
"This symbol means that the lineage is of the highest rank," Prosperity explained. "See how both Keyic and Zyzz are labeled with it?"
A map of the continent was on the table, with all domain borders drawn in. Prosperity pointed with one finger each to Keyic, in the northeast corner, and Zyzz, in the southeast. Among the labels next to each lineage's name was that same symbol.
"Yes, but not Emmoyer?" The symbol in the same slot for the domain south of Keyic was different.
"Right. Emmoyer and Limbot were both second rank," She confirmed, pointing to those labels. "A lineage of high rank usually has high financial, political, and military strength, so that first rank symbol roughly marks the great powers. But, what truly determines rank is divine power. A lineage of high rank is one whose members are consistently strong, and most of all, one that does not produce non-mages."
Telf put her hands over her heart, in mock horror. How awful, to have a non-mage child! Perish the thought!
Prosperity mimicked her, with equal sarcasm, before continuing.
"For centuries, Keyic has produced only a single member per generation, each eventually becoming Matriarch or Patriarch. Consistently 'getting it right' on the first try, like that, is extremely prestigious, partly because it's also very risky, since the lineage could easily go extinct. However, Our custom was not so much for the prestige, but so that there were never weaker siblings who would need to suffer a marriage into a false god lineage, or have something to gain by telling secrets. With Me so far?"
Telf nodded.
"Good. Now, the first rate black lineages," She pointed to an example, "are the biggest problems for Us, in the long term, since they occasionally produce false gods that can destroy a whole village or army by themselves. Remember Izzie, as a mortal?"
Telf shivered. The Black Goddess in that moving picture game was awesomely powerful. And She was much stronger now!
"I remember." She shivered again. "But can't You make things that are just as strong? Like the statue?"
"I can, but weapons like that can't be used more than a few times before I would need to recharge them. A false black god can cast a spell every few seconds until they get tired, rest until they catch their breath, then start casting again."
No way around it. Worries were part of Telf's job.
"There's good news, too. No false god will ever be as skilled as Izzie, none of the surviving former Limbots married into first rank lineages--second rank marrying into first rank is highly unusual--and there are only two strong ones in the world, neither from this continent. One is very elderly, of no concern, and the other was just born a few weeks ago. It is crucial to be careful with her lineage, the Fijoji, but--"
Prosperity paused, staring off into space. A few seconds later, the God of Romantic Sunsets walked in, followed by a throng of children. Arelvi was riding on his shoulders.
Prosperity's Helper met her Goddess' eyes. Both nodded, spun a quarter turn, and sat back to watch the sunset.
"To the books?" the God asked his driver.
"Yes!"
"To read a story?"
"Read a story!"
Prosperity tapped Telf's shoulder, and pointed to a bowl of dried fruit that She'd placed on the table. Telf joined Her in snacking.
"Hmm. Maybe the one about the white birds who love sparkles?"
Arelvi squealed and bounced. He had 'guessed' correctly.
"They want them all!" Arelvi knew the plot well. "All the sparkles!"
"Can they find the last one?" So did the author.
"Nooooo!"
"Awww! Poor birds! We'd better help them! Can you reach it?"
He leaned in close enough for Arelvi to pull the picture book from its shelf.
"Can You fly like the Sky Goddess does, to get to high shelves?" Sosanny asked.
"Sort of," he answered. "When I make things, they're red, not blue. Except...will you all keep a secret? It will hurt my feelings, if you tell my secret to anyone."
Everyone promised.
"Look." He held out his palm, and as far as Telf could tell, a clump of dirt appeared in it. "I need to be in sunlight, or everything I make is kind of ugly. It's embarrassing."
"But in the Sun, it's pretty? Like what the Sky Goddess makes?" Sosanny seemed even more excited than if it had been pretty to start with. Pretty, but only if you knew the trick!?
"Mmm, not exactly. It's impossible to be as pretty as Her." Everyone nodded sagely. He certainly knew the secret to winning Gwell over. "But, it glows kind of like sunset, so it's nice."
Sosanny and her roommate, Ginta, looked at each other, then at Telf and the Sky Goddess, then at each other. Miraculously, it was Ginta who spoke first.
"W--. Will You come, too? I-if Telf can take us?" she stammered to Prosperity. It was hard to ask a Goddess for such things. "So we can see?"
Telf was at the door before she realized she was moving, but Prosperity knelt smoothly in front of Ginta.
"I have an idea!" She said. "It's been a while since Melara's last checkup. I bet she would be happy if everyone visited! How about We all go to her village? She'll be so surprised!"
Ginta nodded a little, and Arelvi slapped at the book's cover, impatiently.