For the Record

“No.”

Abaris didn’t even let me finish before flatly rejecting my request.

Which I guess shouldn’t be that surprising, considering the terror he went through before. Apparently Mimir dragged his half-conscious body through the teleporter when he’d been mauled by thralls.

Fortunately for the other planes, the artifact specialist had frantically retuned the teleporter to reject vampires.

I’d admittedly already tried Mimir first, and I couldn’t even find the not-quite-a-human.

Artemis suggested, in not so many words, that he probably didn’t want to be found.

Which is just as well.

Nyx’s old workshop is still intact, for what that’s worth. We didn’t leave anything of note inside it though. I stop in to visit anyway, and other than a few stray kernels of cat food that His Highness apparently left behind, it’s just as empty as it was before.

(Of course it is, it’s locked to mana signature,) Nyx interjects.

Because of course she does.

…

Now that I think of it…

I’m actually strong enough to use Spellspeech now.

I take a breath and Artemis reflexively grabs my shoulders, looking over my face with worry.

“No, it’s fine. This won’t strain me, I mean it. This is easy stuff,” I say dismissively, reaching up to pat her hands reassuringly.

She doesn’t look convinced but slowly releases me anyway.

And now for the fun stuff!

“{create portal link},” I say, visualizing forming a connection between one of the empty closets and the portal home.

And sure enough, it works.

Although I now have a pounding headache. I laugh weakly. “I’d say I almost missed this feeling, but I never enjoyed it to begin with.”

My companion tips her head, worry faintly radiating again though I can tell she’s trying to conceal it.

“No, it’s fine,” I say again. “It worked.” I waggle the house key in the air. “This doorway is linked to the end of the hallway in the portal house now. Which means I can link Nyx here from anywhere.”

(And what the hells does that mean?) my former Assistant asks disinterestedly.

…

(Hello?)

Have you never heard of a dramatic pause?

She sighs. (Get on with it, asshole.)

Fine. I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out before me. I know you’re a lot smarter than me.

(I – gods. Shut up and just fucking tell me already.)

I smile to myself. Even she’s not immune to the tiniest bit of flattery.

It means that not only can we use the portal house to visit your workshop any time we want to, but it also means that you can live here if you want, regardless of whether I’m on the plane, as long as the portal house is set up somewhere.

…

She’s dead silent for a moment.

No, I’m not kidding. You can leave me behind, like you keep saying you want to. You can live on Gramr. You can be with your old friends and do stuff at your workshop.

…

You’re free, for a certain meaning of the word.

I feel her radiate both elation, confusion, and…

Conflict? Conflict about what?

***

If nothing else is clear, it’s that populating my plane a second time is going to be a whole lot more difficult.

Although I at least don’t have to worry too much about the whole ‘barren desert’ part.

All Artemis had to do was wave a hand and brush sprang from nowhere, complete with wildlife. Granted it’s not the fastest process, but anything is better than nothing.

Domain: The Untamed really shouldn’t be underestimated. This apparently falls under its purview, creating wilderness from nothing.

The houses… are gone. It won’t be as simple as just offering free land and housing to potential settlers this time around.

And my castle – it wasn’t beautiful, but it was mine. Gone.

A sigh escapes me.

Restoring it would be simple enough or even making another, better one.

Maybe one that better suits me.

For some reason, I have the impression that the old keep was there before this was my plane.

Er, Astraea’s plane?

I don’t know.

I don’t know anymore.

I absentmindedly rip more mana from the earth, causing the nearest vegetation to brown slightly. My companion furrows her brow but doesn’t comment.

“You know what? Hells with it. Hells with all of it! I’m doing it. I’m doing it, so help me!”

Artemis tilts her head, as she usually does when I say something mostly incomprehensible – ha, I guess the shoe is on the other foot, hmm?

Except that I’m not wearing shoes. I don’t really need them.

I guess location doesn’t really matter though, does it?

“Is this a good place for a castle?” I ask my companion.

She blinks and tilts her head the other way. I can’t help but giggle, at least a little.

“What I’m saying is that I’m going to make a new castle. A new home, for my home plane. Does this look like a good place for it? The landscape is completely different than it was before, so I’m not sure the old location of Moonside is a good place for it anymore. Really, we could build it anywhere? The Shadowed Plane looks a lot more like your home now, doesn’t it? So of course you’d be a better judge of location than I would.”

My companion furrows her brow, and I can already tell why… she doesn’t expect me to be this… compliant? Aid-seeking? She seems to think I’d want to do everything myself, plan everything myself, and just drag everyone else along with me.

But I’m not Astraea.

Not entirely.

There’s still enough of me in… me, to be different.

“Fine then,” I say. “Here will do.”

And I begin casting.

***

The headaches never really get better.

They recover, but it all comes back as soon as I use Spellspeech again.

Who was it that said it was because I was using my soul as a conduit?

Nyx? Abaris? I can’t remember.

Oh well, it doesn’t matter.

What does matter is the freshly built castle before me, stone risen from the earth itself.

…

And I’ll admit, it’s pretty much just the old one.

I guess sometimes you can’t beat the comfort of familiarity.

Although it occurs to me that it’s going to be awfully empty without the vampire maids, gods damn them all. Even the guardian statues are gone.

It’s really, genuinely empty.

Just me, and Artemis, and my retainers – whenever they move back here – and a whole bunch of wildlife. Nothing and no one else.

…

Part of me doesn’t even care if humans ever come back to my plane, but the pressure from my bond with the headmaster at the thought makes it pretty clear that that’s not going to work.

I have to do something more. I can’t just live in wilderness.

He probably wouldn’t even let me just, live my life with Artemis.

As nice as that would probably be.

…

When did I get comfortable with that idea?

I really need to talk to Izahne. She’s going to be so angry again…

Actually…

“Why are you so open to me having multiple wives?” I ask the foxkin.

She blinks at me. “First? First,” she says while gesturing at herself. “Last, not. More? Yes.”

Huh.

So Astraea already had multiple wives.

Artemis nods.

…

At this point, we’ve reached the new old throne room again. I smile in recognition.

Even the pattern on my throne is the same. Even the texture of the cushion.

But after confirming that, I don’t bother sitting. Instead I walk right past it, through the doors in the back of the throne room.

To my bedchambers.

To my garish colors and toxic metal detailing.

The smell is… different, but I suppose that can’t be helped considering only the form is the same, and not the place’s history.

But that won’t stop me from flopping face down on my bed, and so I do.

I chuckle to myself at the absolute lack of dignity I’ve just shown. Oh well, it’s not like anyone who cares saw it.

Only my wife, and she’s been here with me countless…

Times…

…

Gods, I hope I get used to this at some point. Or maybe, just maybe, the memories will be consistent instead of appearing and disappearing from nowhere?

That’d be really nice.

Ah, speak of the devil, Artemis silently slides onto the mattress next to me.

“Took you long enough,” I mumble as I poke her on the nose, causing it to wiggle in surprise.

And then I grab her by the arm, shifting to lay on my back while pulling her over so her head rests on my shoulder.

A long breath escapes me.

Paradise.

This was once my paradise.

I…

Took it from myself, I think.

Once.

I won’t again.

It still feels like an alien word to me, but I’m gradually growing more comfortable with it.

Home.

This is my home.

And I’ll never let anyone take it from me again.