For the Record

I suppose that would have been embarrassing, at least if I were capable of feeling that emotion.

After a few tries and a few fumbles, I finally manage to find a combination of words that let me enlarge the individual rooms into something livable, even adding windows made of some kind of durable transparent material I produced from my own ash. I immediately claim one for myself – the far one. Or I should say, for myself and my wife.

Izahne promptly walks in and looks around the mostly bare room while I’m arranging the furniture from my lair – Nyx's old workshop – located on the plane of Gramr. Thankfully, master Owyn gave us enough advanced warning that we’d be making a trip that we had time to pack things like these. Through the walls I can hear the sound of the others organizing their living spaces much the same.

I turn to leave the room when I hear my death knight gasp behind me, so I quickly turn back ready to defend against the unexpected foe... only to find her frantically pulling on a casual shirt in place of her usual armor. I guess she needs more work on her dimensional storage finesse – I tried teaching her once how to easily swap clothing using it, but she hasn’t made much progress despite the past few months.

“D-did you see?” she stammers as she realizes I’m looking her way and begins blushing a dark gray.

(This is where you’re supposed to say – ) Nyx begins, but I ignore her completely.

“Yes.”

And there’s another patented Nyx facepalm.

“Also, I’ve already seen you unclothed several times. This isn’t the first time you’ve failed to swap clothing, you know. At this point I’m not even sure what you’re trying to hide.”

“I-I know!” she snaps, blushing even darker. “I know you have! But I’m trying, okay?”

I sigh, very lightly in a way that hopefully isn’t going to upset her. I’ve noticed that sighing in response to things that are bothering her tends to start fights, after all. If I’ve proven anything it’s that I’m capable of learning.

“Yes. Yes you are,” I say, and place one hand on top of her head to muss her hair around. She seems to like that, even though she says she doesn’t. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood to resist and instead gently leans into it, looking down toward our feet while her blush continues to rage.

It certainly doesn’t get any lighter as a voice sounds behind us. “If you two are about finished, I’ve put together something to eat. It isn’t much, considering what I have to work with, but I at least managed to make something hot.”

“I see,” I reply. Meanwhile Izahne is busy hiding behind me for some reason. “We will be out in a moment.”

Omorth nods, turning to head back down the hallway toward the common room.

I tip my death knight’s face up so she’ll look me in the eyes. “We should join them, or at least you should. Hot meals don’t mean much to me unless they’re coursing with mana, after all.”

And she squeaks something unintelligible.

I am so confused.

(Meanwhile, I’m ‘so confused’ about how you’ve apparently recovered so much knowledge from your past selves, and yet are completely in the dark on how to handle a partner romantically. You push every single one of her buttons without even realizing it,) Nyx mutters.

Hey, I don’t understand it either, but whatever. Maybe it’s just a thing that is, and there isn’t much to understand.

(That makes no sense!)

Well, it makes about as much sense as saying ‘humans’ have ‘buttons’ or whatever!

I sigh a cloud of ash, quickly catching myself to turn away from Izahne so I don’t vent it directly in her face.

“Nyx things?” she asks, and I nod in reply.

“Come,” I say, and take her by the hand to lead her into the common room.

***

I’m suddenly grateful that I don’t need to eat like the humans. While judging food as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ still eludes me, even I can tell that the pot of questionable murky liquid Omorth is stirring on the stovetop is definitely in the ‘bad’ category. I assume it’s related to the ‘trail rations’ he used to make it, and their dubiously long shelf life. The looks on my party members’ faces sure doesn’t refute it, either.

At least it’s something to fill their stomachs though. Not like there’s anything else around here to eat, unless they want to eat old dry wood. Maybe rusty metal. The last time I checked though, that wasn’t an option.

Granted, my death knight at least also has the option to Drain mana from others, including me, although Draining the others is likely to have other consequences. Especially if we intend to survive however long it takes to accomplish, whatever exactly it is that master Owyn expects of us.

It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is here considering the perpetual darkness outside, so we arbitrarily decide that it’s night now and time to rest. That works out well enough, considering my party all seem fatigued enough for a night’s sleep. We all retire to our rooms.

After a couple of hours on my back staring at the ceiling with my wife’s arms wrapped around me from the side, her pattern of steady breathing breaks. She sputters and looks around, blinking confusedly.

“Were you dreaming?” I ask.

“Mm?” she grumbles, apparently disoriented.

“Don’t panic. We’re in the house on The Husk. We’re here to fix the plane or whatever.”

“Uh?” she mumbles, followed by an “Ah.”

All returns to quiet for a moment as she gradually gets her bearings. It definitely hasn’t been long enough for her to be fully rested, but this happens sometimes and I’ve just gotten used to it.

After a while, she begins speaking in a slurred mumble. “Dear... what’re we gun do? Is so ‘mpty...”

I think for a moment.

(Yeah, I can’t wait for your next words of wisdom,) Nyx snarks. Because of course she does.

Oh shut up.

“I don’t know yet, but we’ll figure something out.”

(Aha!) Nyx laughs, tilting her head back and covering her eyes with her hands. (That was even more useless than I’d expected!)

Gods, what do you want from me?

She stops laughing suddenly and stares at me, a picture of seriousness although I can still see the edge of the smile she’s trying to conceal. (What I want is for you to actually come up with an answer. But I know you better than that by now.)

Yeah, sure. Whatever.

Abruptly, Izahne lets go of me and stumbles up from the bed, wandering aimlessly toward the door. I make no move to stop her – she tends to do this kind of thing as well. Humans have body needs after all, and she acts especially weird if I follow her to see what exactly she’s doing. And sure enough, following her with Will Detection confirms that she’s heading to the washroom.

The others are peacefully resting in their respective rooms. Well, all of them other than His Highness, Philip the Cat, Lord of All He Sees, who is currently poking his head around the frame of the door Izahne left open on her nighttime journey. Omorth brought him with us in the carrier with which I’d moved him previously and released him shortly after we were settled. After a moment of hissing at the audacity of me both existing and being in his line of sight, the orange furry beast turns and slinks back to the large eldra’s room, apparently turning in two circles before laying down. It’s really something how precise Will Detection has gotten with practice...

My death knight returns shortly, slipping immediately back under the covers and wrapping herself around me again. There was a time when she simply clung to my arm, but she’s gotten much more physically clingy over time.

I guess it’s a little less weird for her to be married to me – a literal soul-eating monster – when she herself became one as well when I made her my Agent, and stole her from her former patron god Themis. He certainly didn’t take it well, not that I particularly care. Izahne’s told me that he doesn’t have a tendency of doing things himself, instead sending his cult to do his bidding as intermediaries. I’m not worried at all if he does the same in the future, I’m pretty sure I’m way scarier than anything he could send.

(That’s how you get another Owyn hunting you down,) Nyx chides.

Well. She’s not wrong, I guess, but I’m still not going to live expecting some super-powerful demigod immune to my soul-crushing Aura of the Unwound Skill to show up unannounced and cleave me to nothing in one strike, I have better things to do!

...Such as putting this dresser in my dimensional storage, then taking it out, then putting it back in, then taking it back out, over and over and over, all while Izahne snores quietly and peacefully next to me.

...

Gods I’m bored.