For the Record

I’ll admit that it’s entertaining watching Eleonor have absolutely no idea what she’s supposed to do with a teacup. So far she’s stared at it confusedly, spilled it on herself while failing to pick it up with her claws, and coughed and sputtered on the unexpected flavor.

“So you’ve… you’ve really never taken tea before, then?” I say, successfully holding back a chuckle.

With effort.

The ilmesori hero is still staring sideways at the half-empty porcelain vessel. “Uhhhh. No? Markus always said I probably wouldn’t like it. I usually just have fruit juice, they make it in these bottles that are easy to hold.”

I manage to limit my reaction to a slightly shaky smile. “A-ah. I see. …Sooo. Do you like tea then?”

She’s… she’s taking a long time to answer.

…A very long time, complete with a thoughtful look.

…

“I’m not sure.”

I don’t know what I expected.

“Well. If you let Nula know what kind of fruit juice you usually get, I can have the castle stock some. Or any of the lead maids, really. Or, well, any of the maids at all, since the others are dungeon subcores and all share knowledge…”

“I see. Wait, those are dungeon cores?” the hero asks excitedly.

I let myself chuckle this time. “Yes and no. The entire plane is one big dungeon, but it was taking way too long so we made a lot of subcores, as in a lot a lot of subcores, and had each of their avatars do more of the work. Then when we were done it didn’t really make sense to just, unmake them all, so I gave them jobs instead.”

“Oh, huh. That makes sense, I think,” she says with an endearing head tilt.

…

Wait, endearing!?

I glance confusedly down at my teacup to the sounds of Nyx madly laughing, because of course she is.

It’s not my fault! There’s just… s-something about her that makes me want to protect her, and… p-pat her head!?

And now she’s laughing even harder!

W-well… whatever, I guess... I take another sip of my tea, my hands shaking slightly more than before.

…

…

“So, I’ve been wondering, and Markus says it’s bad when I talk about things I wonder about, but I’m going to ask anyway. What do you do for shedding?”

…

“Huh?”

Ah, there’s that head tilt again. “I mean. Shedding, right? When your scales and skin, or scales, or skin, or… I don’t know. When it comes off in a sheet?”

“What scales? I don’t have scales. Why would I have scales?” I respond, both baffled and bewildered.

“But… those there, like behind your ears, or down the back of your neck? Aren’t those scales? They sure look like scales… At least I’m pretty sure. They’re faint but they’re definitely there.”

I furrow my brow, but find myself still absentmindedly running a hand there… just to be sure…

NYX! HOW LONG HAVE I HAD SCALES!?

(Don’t know, don’t care.)

Sure, some help you are.

(Eh,) Nyx says while projecting a shrug, (that’s not my job anymore. Ask one of your wives, they pay attention to these things. Probably.)

I sigh, and the resulting cloud of sparkling ash reminds me of…

What does it remind me of?

I don’t even know. This hero really puts me off balance!

“But yeah, so those don’t peel then? I just kind of thought… well, I know that’s not your real form, you have all sorts of tells so I figured you were probably like me, or I guess more like my grandpa, he looks like a human but has all sorts of tells too if you know where to look. Oh, he’s an ilmesori! But he’s really strong. And you’re really strong too! Probably stronger though, he’s not a demon lord or anything, he’s a mage. A strong mage!”

I inhale to reply, but she just keeps right on talking a million words a minute.

“But yeah, the scales or skin or scales and skin or uhhhh they all just want to peel off in a sheet every couple months, or once a year, or whenever, I guess it varies for different subspecies? And it’s really itchy! But you don’t shed at all then? That’s weird. That’s really weird, you really don’t shed?”

“No, I don’t shed at all. But, hmmm. What exactly do you think I am?”

The hero exuberantly spreads her arms and says, “Some kind of lizard person, like me! Maybe you even evolved from someone like me, at least I hope so, you’re really strong!”

…

“No, I’m not a ‘lizard person’. I’m an ash monster. Or well, I guess at least part of me evolved from a gorgon… But I’ve always been of some kind of monster race.”

“Oh. Okay,” Eleonor replies with just a tinge of disappointment.

Huh.

“I’m curious though, I’ll admit. What exactly is the difference between monster races and, well, non-monster races? I know that my kind are generally born or created with innate Skills, where non-monsters aren’t…”

“That’s a really good question!” she blurts, immediately perking back up. “It’s…”

…

“It’s that…”

…

…

The hero appears to be thinking very, very hard about the question for a few moments, going between a thoughtful brow furrow, seemingly counting… and then her eyebrows shoot up.

“Well? What is it?” I ask.

“I have no idea!”

I manage to resist the oncoming facepalm and instead redirect it into pinching the bridge of my nose. “Ah, yes. Of course. You don’t know. That’s fine, I don’t know either. Let’s, ah. Let’s just enjoy this tea for now, I guess.”

(So how’s it feel, buddy?)

Oh shut up!

…

“Ah, to your earlier question… I guess the closest I have to shedding is this.”

And I disperse my body to fill the garden clearing, carefully keeping myself away from the table.

“OOOOH! Oh gods, that looks so much more convenient!” Eleonor blurts.

As I’m reforming, she excitedly leans toward me and asks, “So how do I do that? Can you teach me to do that?”

…I fail to resist the facepalm this time. “Eleonor… That is my natural state. Like I said, I’m an ash monster of sorts. Well, I’m a wraith. You know, a manaphage?”

She tilts her head. “Really? You don’t look like one.”

“Of course I don’t look like a wraith, I’m transformed! This is basically what one of my past selves looked like, as I understand it.”

The hero nods thoughtfully, while I’ll admit I question whether she’s actually processing any of this. The gods really have a way with choosing their heroes, don’t they? Does every single one have some kind of weird quirk?

…

Yeah, probably.

…

…

Although, this does give me an idea. Probably a terrible idea, one that might start a war with Ebisu if nothing else.

…But that’s never stopped me before!

“I do know of one way I could probably teach you that. There’s just, well, a big problem with it.”

“What kind of problem?” the hero asks curiously.

And I offer a sinister grin in return.

***

(Please tell me you’re not seriously considering turning a literal hero into one of your lackeys.)

Hey, I didn’t want to turn Markus into one of my lackeys, it just turned out that way!

(Oh please, that was a possible outcome and you knew it.)

I mean, sure, I’m not going to deny it. But it’s still not what I was trying to do! Besides, I’d say he’s happier now, and you’d probably know better considering he’s taken over your old workshop here!

(Of course he did! You turned him into a freaking enchanter! What else was he supposed to do? He’s a crafter with a handful of combat-appropriate Skills glued to his Class!)

Hey, that also wasn’t my fault! All I did was offer him a Class, and he took it!

(Yes, and you… you… you really didn’t know what kind of Class you offered him?)

Nope! I just thought about doing it and got a System notification saying I’d done it.

…

My former Assistant is mercifully silent for a moment.

(You know what, fine. I don’t care. I really don’t care anymore. Talk to your wives, they can talk you out of doing the stupid thing. Good luck.)

***

“Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

It was probably good that I’d suggested Izzy sit down, but she refused anyway. I’m not surprised by her response though.

“It’s not like I’m trying to recruit her or anything, we were just talking about the difference between monster and non-monster races, and how we didn’t know if there were any other than innate Skills.”

“And that the gods made the mortal races as their chosen peoples, and that monsters were made to vex us and offer a challenge. We kill monsters to level, otherwise we’d have to kill each other for it.”

That gives me pause.

“Wait a minute though. I have a serious question.”

Izzy patiently waits as I’m sure I cycle through all the same expressions as Eleonor earlier.

“Are wraiths monsters or a mortal race, then?” I finally ask.

“Aren’t they all just a part of you?”

“Well, sure,” I continue, “but they’re also separate. If I kill them I still get experience and mana from it. They just don’t have independent wills. So hear me out then… the Queen of Hunger was spontaneously formed as a god. And then she created her own people, in a sense. So really… Are wraiths monsters by that definition?”

Artemis steps from my shadow – where I definitely knew she was – and tugs the hem of my dress before saying, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, monster.”

I worry I’ll regret her response – or at least the comprehensibility of her response if it’s complicated – but decide to ask anyway. “How so?”

All she does is point at me and say, “Monster.”

…

“So if I’m a monster god, my people are monsters?”

“I think I see,” Izzy says. “A monster god creates a chosen people that are themselves monsters… is what you’re saying, right?”

My fox wife nods. “Vex.”

…

…

“Are you saying I literally exist to annoy humans!?”

(Should I answer that question, then? I’ve probably got the most experience of this group at being annoyed by you.)

And I exhale an ash cloud large enough that I’ve probably lost mass from it.