For the Record

“So how much longer are you following me?” I ask. My patience is starting to wear a bit thin, but I’ve been ignoring them since our ‘friendly spar’. Hey, it’s not like they’re scaring away mobs or stealing my experience.

The shiny human – Izahne, apparently – cocks their head to the side, while Abaris huffs a sigh before responding. “You’re just asking now? Most people would be more cautious of someone after an altercation.”

“Can’t say I care. It’s not like I can’t leave you all in my dust, or the dust behind my dust.”

“Then why’re ya walkin’?” the stabby human asks.

Which. Is a very good question.

(Maybe you’re finally coming around to the whole idea of companionship?) my Assistant offers.

“Eh, doubtful. I’ve already got an involuntary companion in my head.”

(Touche.)

“That… made no sense,” the white-robed human answers. Ah, I said that out loud didn’t I?

I sigh. “Yeah, I was talking to my Assistant. She’s quite chatty.”

(Hey! It’s not my fault you keep asking questions. You know that –)

“Wait. Hold on,” the biggest human interrupts. “System Assistants don’t talk. Or do they? Mine doesn’t.”

“Mine either,” the shiny one chimes in. The others take turns looking at each other and nodding.

“Well, mine does. And she talks a lot.”

That seems to especially get Abaris’ attention. “That’s not something heard about outside of legends, you know?”

I sigh again. “No, I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve existed long enough to learn. Hey, how old am I again?”

(A handful of weeks over a year, give or take. And the both of us have only been conscious for the most recent part of it,) Nyx helpfully answers.

“Yeah, that. Ah, right, you can’t hear her. She said some time unconscious and then blah blah, not very long.”

Izahne is next to speak. “So if she can hold a conversation, does she have a name? Well, other than one you’ve given her?”

I laugh. “Yes, also she named me.”

…

“Well, what is it then?”

“Nyx. She says she used to be a big thing, but now she’s in my head instead. She’s pretty not at all happy about it.”

Ah, that shut them up. They’re still following, though.

“Alright,” Abaris says. “This is very important. Are you absolutely sure her name is Nyx?”

“Yep. Ah, how did she put it… ‘Ascendant would-be goddess Nyx, the one and only, at your service, against my will and yours, whether we like it or not ‘til death do us part and all that, please do not hold your applause’. Do all high-level Ascendants introduce themselves like that by the way? She’s not the only one I’ve met who did that. Oh, and she keeps saying she invented all this stuff we keep using to get around?”

(How do you remember that and not your age?)

“That… needs to be reported. You all know that, right?” Izahne asks, a serious look on her face.

“Why?” I ask. “Besides the obvious whole ‘missing person’ thing, I mean.”

Dumbfounded looks surround me.

“Because of the missing person thing?” I offer.

Their unison “OBVIOUSLY!” echoes from the cavern walls.

***

The rest of the walk to the entrance for this crappy dungeon is blissfully free of conversation until the white robed one smashes it.

“Where are you going next?”

I think for a moment. It’s not like I need to sleep, but it’s not like I have an actual to do list or anything either. “I’ll probably just go feed Nyx’s cat or something before she bugs me to do it anyway.”

(You do learn! Also, Philip is our cat. Use his name, pretend he’s not food for the next time I’m not looking.)

“Yeah, sure. Philip. Fine. Also he’s what, probably two or three experience? Less than a goblin, not remotely worth it,” I snip back.

“Really? Where is that?” white robes continues probing.

I shrug. “Nyx’s old workshop. It’s keyed to her but I guess having her in my head lets me open it or something.”

“That makes no sense,” Abaris counters.

“Doesn’t matter, door opens.”

White robes is quiet for a moment, before asking, “May we come with you?”

“Can’t say I care. Nyx will probably be very happy if you pet the cat for her. Ah right, I can do that too now? But he’s afraid of me. Whatever.”

A fairly short journey later, we’re walking in the front door. Nyx has had me repeating a mantra… Specifically the names and genders of our uninvited guests. I actually bothered identifying them too.

[Indra – Izahne (Paladin) – Level 16]

[Human – Pearl (Priest) – Level 14]

[Obounis – Abaris (Mage) – Level 22]

[Eldra – Omorth (Barbarian) – Level 15]

[Human – Elobahn (Rogue) – Level 17]

Seems like they’ve got a spread in their levels.

(They probably haven’t been adventuring together since they each got a System,) Nyx informs me.

“Why are all your levels so different?” I ask, with the sound of my Assistant’s palm hitting her face for probably the thousandth time.

Izahne answers before the others. “We’ve only known each other for three quarters.”

“Great. Quarters of what?” Ah, there’s the other palm.

“Of a year. It’s how the academy divides the course year. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter. There are a few breaks at different points,” the paladin answers again. I vaguely know what those seasons are already so I don’t bother asking more.

By that point we’ve made it to the bottom of the lift shaft, so I wander out into the main room. “Sit where you want I guess, or don’t. Doesn’t really matter. If you want to bother the cat, he’s under the rubble over there hissing.”

Oddly enough, the barbarian seems the most interested in bothering the furry ball of rage, but I’m not quite sure why it seems strange. Well, whatever. I busy myself with Philip’s bag of crumbles. While I’m doing what his highness requires, the others seem to be keenly interested in the remains of my lair.

Izahne finally comes up for air. “Has this been disturbed?”

“Eh? A bunch of satyrs who knew Nyx cleaned it up if that’s what you mean. It was way worse before, oh and this robe was just a couple strips of cloth I guess? It’s these stained parts,” I reply.

The paladin lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’ll save you asking. If a crime scene has been disturbed, it’s that much more difficult to try to find the culprit. Sometimes it’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible though,” I shrug. “Go look in that room, the one over there –“ I gesture vaguely in the door’s direction, “that’s apparently where I was made and Nyx was unmade.”

Abaris’ long ears perk up at that. “Made? You were Made?”

I give him the most disinterested sideways glance I can, and answer. “Yeah. Me and Nyx got smashed together into this glorious form you see before you.” I send a ripple of dematerialized dust down my body before reforming it back into myself.

“YOU’RE A CHIMERA!?”

“We can talk about that later!” Izahne interrupts. “The culprit. You said you know the culprit.”

“No, I don’t know her, but Nyx does. Or, did I guess?” I say. “Pretty sure she doesn’t want to anymore at this point, unless it’s through uhhhh sharp metal or something.”

“Her? Who?”

I sigh. “Erebus, obviously.”